In every breath, life or universe
by FallenAngelItachi
Summary: A collection of multiple takes on the relationship of the same two people: Saitou and Tokio. AUs galore. Each take will span a couple of chapters, maybe three. Credit to legalronin, she did it first. Just wanted to try my hand, too.
1. My famous(?) new neighbour, Part one

**A/N** : Hello curious people of the internet! How are you? I've a feeling it wasn't too long ago I saw some of you - you know who you are lovelies - so welcome back.

What is this you may wonder? I have come to bring you another addition to my most beloved and favourite pairing of mine. O ho ho~! Apparently, this is frigging long. No, I didn't write it in one day; yes, I have been thinking about it for a year-been writing tortuously slow in fact, too.

No matter; what this is, is a collection of short stories about said fave pairing. When I say short, not in the traditional sense. They will probably span a couple or three chapters each (possibly of this size) and they will be there to relieve my stress and cure my writer's block, should it appear. Don't fear, and it won't affect my other story, it will most probably boost me to write more.

But since I finally found time to publish it, I'm doing it, before I change my mind.

This was actually inspired by **legalronin** 's: **A Meet Cute (Well, Maybe Not So Cute)** which is pretty much the same thing, only different AUs and such. You should definitely go check it out, it's great, I loved it. Go check her out in general, all of her stories are golden.

Short version is, have another short, cute re-imagining! First one to a few that will undoubtedly follow. Some may even surprise you, hopefully. Love ya~~

 **Disclaimer** : I wish I did, but I do not own RuroKen. Been wishing the one who did, didn't, too. Also, I have included famous sites/apps in this story, but I didn't even change the name because really, who doesn't know what it is and all? It's not like I'm making profit...

 **Title** : My famous(?) new neighbour. **  
** **Genre** : Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe** : Neighbours, modernday

* * *

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That was the hundredth time she heard that sudden, loud thud today; what the hell was going on? She had headphones on, was buried under her blanket watching a movie on her laptop in her bedroom, the room most removed from the door and any other neighbour, and yet, she could still hear, even feel that. What were people doing? It was the middle of the day; only housewives were home at this time in this apartment complex. And her.

Since she was sure she wasn't the one causing the trouble, then who? No housewife of this building could ever make that much impact, after all.

Apprehensive, she pulled her headphones off – damn thing always snapped hairs off – and waited for another noise. A soft rolling was overheard and then a small pounding on her door. She jolted!

"What the frigging hell—this isn't a horror movie!" she protested loudly to no one other than herself as she clutched at her chest. Making the effort to move to the door, her head fell back, headphones still around her neck. Ah, thankfully the cord didn't break, it wasn't too abrupt. Annoyed at herself, she took their plug off the laptop and headed to the door.

Hunched, shoulders squared, she tiptoed through the hall, grabbing the big one of the three decorative katana she had on her smaller table – still sheathed – finally reaching her destination. She looked outside, ready to strike…but there was no one there.

Ah shit, that was some Stephen King writing in the making, she shivered all over.

 _Tokio, there's no supernatural, get a grip_! The self-scolding worked; shaking her head disappointed, she lowered her sword, bracing herself. _Like pulling a tooth_ , she decided, just be done with it. Her other hand came around the knob and pulled the door open!

Nothing.

Oh wait; she felt something hit her ankle. That was a…round black thing? it was heavy, she decided, too heavy to casually lift with a sword in the other hand, so she opened the door wider, let the thing roll in and looked across the hall.

That is what she got when she stopped paying attention to the gossips of the building: the Akira family was apparently moving out! All sorts of boxes – six by a quick count, exactly as many as the thuds – stood by the open door of the now empty apartment. Huh, bare walls felt so outlandish to see across from her, but there they were and she had no idea. Instead of picking the round thing up though, she lightly kicked it, testing how far it would go. When it covered too small a distance, she went after it, giving it another nudge, stronger this once.

Deeming the distance satisfactory, she kept lightly kicking the thing towards its original place, until both reached right outside the Akira's family doorstep. Oh man, it was a little depressing…the impressions of the photos or mirrors on the walls, shade of beige brighter where it wasn't exposed, left her with a feeling of loss. Dust had settled in at places, dirt carried in by the draft; windows wide open, leading to the large balcony. She always envied that balcony to be honest—so wide and long, perfect for summer gatherings with friends, and if one kept the window doors open, the size was quadrupled, accompanied by the space offered by the living room.

Her head peaked inside, foot resting on the weight. She had come to recognise the round thing as part of an ankle weight; those were the professional type, maybe an athlete's. It stood to reason, seeing Akira-san's son was into judo. Hesitantly, she walked inside, finally picking up the black, perfectly round ball—it had become an ego thing by that point; Akira's son was a twig of a person, who got into judo to build some muscle – _and character, as I did at his age_ , his father would constantly brag – so if _he_ could wear it around his ankle for a long period of time, she would sure as hell be able to lift it.

"Akira-san," she called out "are you here? Are you guys leaving?"

She'd miss that quiet, stereotypical family of theirs; despite all their shortcomings, they were good people in the end, easy going and tolerant of her numerous peculiarities. It would be hard to find such good neighbours again…and she despised change, sudden one to boot.

"Akira-san," she drawled, a little bolder now "where are you? Hasn't anyone told you not to leave your things unattended outside like that? What if someone stole them? Well, not all of them, they'd have to be a gang so someone would see them and stop them…but what if they stole something expensive? Or even something that's only precious to you and gets taken with other things? Akira-san, be more careful," she drawled, sing song voice a little bored "I could have easily been a burglar…!"

"Are you?"

A voice she did not recognise.

"KYAH!

A man's voice, deep and unwavering. She jumped out of her skin, immediately turning around, hands glued to her sides. But what she saw didn't match the picture of the yakuza thug her mind had drawn up instantly – eye patch on from a fight, maybe a scar or two – nor did the age: his voice sounded much older than this man in his late twenties standing in front of her, wearing casual clothes and a judgemental look on his face.

Her hear beat a mile per minute. "Wh-who are you?" she questioned, torn between fight or flight. There was something very predatory in the way his eyes pierced her, coupled with their almost unnatural amber hue.

"The new owner of this house; you?"

She breathed a sigh of relief, sagging pathetically in front of him. "I'm your new neighbour," she tried to be as upbeat as possible, but her previous fright did not allow her too much leeway. "Name's Takagi Tokio, hello."

"Do you always greet your neighbours with a sword?"

Only just realising she was still holding it, her face became deep red, but her smile was large and apologetic.

"I'm **so** sorry about the sword, I had it with me because I heard noises…I live alone…I scare easily…" her voice was becoming smaller by the word as she attempted to hide said instrument of death behind her back. It was a lost cause, seeing the blade alone was a metre long and she stood at 1.62 at most, aka on her toes.

"I see…is that one of my weights in your hand?"

"Oh, yes! That's the reason I'm here on the first place; kept hearing noises and then something hit my door, I was scared as hell, I took the sword to protect myself and opened the door to find it at my feet. It obviously rolled all the way there."

She had never talked so fast her entire life! she took a long breath and this one succeeded in giving the brightest most awkward smile she had ever graced anyone with.

"Glad to confirm you are definitely not a burglar."

Alright, now he was just teasing her; she noticed that twitch of his lip, the internal struggle not to laugh in her face, that forced severe expression. He was mighty intimidating by height alone, towering over her like that – despite being a good three metres away – and the fact he was carrying seemingly effortlessly three of those heavy boxes that lay outside his home.

She shook her head. "Excuse me for intruding, I didn't mean to," she said in the end, picking the higher road "I'll leave you to it…sorry if I scared you, too."

Oh yes, a tiny woman with a sword she didn't even know how to hold, how intimidating. The only time he'd been on edge was before he actually saw her and then till he made sure she wasn't a thief. But then again…who has ever heard of a thief in hot shorts and crop tops, with mismatched shocks and headphones that they were not even wearing? Not to mention she wasn't wearing any other type of footwear. And her hair was a mess, a tangle at the back with black hairs sticking out at all directions.

Reading his mind, she shook her head violently. "Let me save a little face, will you?"

He chuckled, finally giving her a break. "Sure thing."

"So, um, I live right across from you so…if you need anything, just knock on the door. I work from home so I'm nearly always there. Well, not always, but usually; I mean, I do go out to buy groceries and such, maybe socialise with people…sometimes they come over too though—but they don't stay too late, don't worry."

Crap, her mouth was running away from her again. She cleared her throat. "So whatever you need, just a knock away…"

Embarrassed, she turned to leave, praying to god she would be left alone for the next decade—

"Knock knock."

—but no such luck, as he just addressed her again. Fuck. She took a deep breath. "Yes?"

"I'mma need that weight back."

 _Why?_

Why did she have to be the most awkward part of herself in front of this complete, tall, gruff yet cool stranger?

"Right; I was just…sorry. I'll leave it on the—…"

She just stopped talking. _On the what, Tokio_ her mind screamed at her? the dresser? The table? That none existed so far!? And the fact he seemed to be enjoying this so much could drive her positively mad.

She exhaled, determined look suddenly taking over. "Know what? I'm done. Here, take your weight," she left it carefully on the floor, as she walked towards the exit he was still blocking "take my dignity with it. But what I said still applies you know! You shouldn't leave your stuff unattended like that. We haven't had many instances of theft, but you never know. And what's that?"

She noticed three large plastic containers in that unmistakable paint-size and style. There were three used and one unused brushes accompanying them, rolls and all, paint buckets piled one into the other. "You wanna paint the house?"

"If you can already tell, why ask?"

"You could have finished a job and brought the left overs."

Ah, right, this person was a stranger in his brand-new living room brandishing a sword; she did not know him or what he did for a living. "I want to freshen up things a little."

"Oh, I see." from smartass to conversational in an instant, she knelt to inspect the containers; when she didn't get what she wanted just by looking at it, she shamelessly took the lid off of one and looked inside. "That's cool," she said then, taking a whiff "I love the smell of paint, don't you?" Her ability to charge through topics like that left him staring. "So what colour are you painting it?"

"…what do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?"

"The colour is right there."

She looked confused; he mirrored her expression. That went on for a while until she widened her eyes nearly scandalised. "You can't be serious of course! That's white—all of it."

"I am aware, seeing as I was the one who purchased them."

"You can't paint an entire house white, that's ridiculous! What's your name?" She cut off her own tirade for a second.

"Saitou Hajime."

"You can't paint an entire house white, Saitou Hajime, that's ridiculous," she picked right where she had left off "not to mention incredibly boring and ordinary. Are you married?"

"No…"

"Attached?"

"No."

"Then you have to paint the house something else otherwise you'll never be able to bring anyone here! Unless you enjoy living alone, in which case my only criticism is the offense to my own aesthetic."

He blinked. "I happen to like white."

She scoffed; he felt nearly offended.

"No one likes white; it's the choice of those who are too bothered to think about it. White is the base, not the final colour. As if it wasn't enough Akira-san was wasting this place, leaving it this drab beige." Turning about, she all but stomped to the largest wall of the living room, hands outstretched in front of her. "Look at this wall; look at its potential. See that column there? Easily a dark shade of peach; the rest of the living room a mellow orange-yellow, savouring of sunset; every column that darker colour. That is if your furniture matches it. What colour is your furniture?"

"Black."

"Hmm, not bad; we could do with a silver-grey, too. Maybe a bold orange then—but not red in the kitchen," seeing they were connected "they say it makes you hungry. Or edgy. Neither of which are good. So that rules it out for the bedroom, too." She considered, hand on chin. "A nice light purple with darker shades at the columns would be a great choice for the bedroom; or something blue. Those are relaxing colours for sleep. If your bed and all are black, too, it'll look perfect. Maybe a bordeaux if your personality is confrontational."

She turned to look at him, as fast as her thoughts. "How much time do we have to work with? Do you have to be back to work soon?"

"I took the week off because of the move."

"Great! Look, there's this hardware store, not two blocks from here—amazing! Has all you need and then some. It's quite cramped but they do have everything. We'll go there, look at the colours and decide what's best. Do you have any pictures of said furniture?"

"They're coming tomorrow."

"I want to see them now, genius," she remarked, unamused "anyway, no matter; are they modern or that classic style?"

"Minimalistic."

She had taken him so much by surprise, he couldn't not answer her questions; her intensity was compelling as well as her commitment to his walls. This woman went through moods and emotions fast!

"Oooh, then I have to say we should stick with silver-grey." She scoffed again. "White? How ridiculous."

He shrugged. "It's a decent colour to be surrounded by."

"Just come with me," she went on, shaking her head; noticing the boxes again, she pointed "pull those inside and close the door behind you once you are sure you have your keys."

"Yes ma'am." He did as she ordered; he really wanted to see how far she'd go with this.

"How long did you plan to take to paint the entire house?"

"A day…?"

"The entire house!?"

"A friend is coming over to help, we'll manage."

The doubt on her face was evident.

.

The doorbell jingled as the two of them entered the cluttered shop, outlets spilling out from shelves and cords or laces hanging out.

"Ken-san! Hello, hello; how are you?"

The old man behind the counter smiled the moment his brain registered the voice, before he even looked up.

"Ah, if it isn't Tokio-chan. What are you doing here so soon?" She went for the colour palette, knowing where it is by heart, and Ken-san frowned. "It's been three months since you last painted your house."

"This isn't for me, it's for Hajime-san."

Said man gave a little bow, as he informed "I am Hajime-san."

"My new neighbour and, can you believe it," she put the colour chart down "he wanted to paint his house white."

The old man gasped. "You didn't," he said in a really adorable way that Saito couldn't help but smile at.

"He did."

"Oh lord…"

"Seeing what I want is inconsequential, though" story of his life, it seems "we came here so she could choose new colours, for my home, in which I will be living in."

"Hush, you have no taste."

But the old man's hearty laugh put an end to their argument. "Don't worry, son, when it comes down to it, it's always the woman that makes these decisions. I'm sure you are better at something else." Many things, Saitou was certain. "Though I don't understand why don't you just move in together."

"Oh, we—Hajime-san and I aren't in a relationship," she easily cleared the misunderstanding, polite and upbeat. But then a longsuffering sigh escaped her, smile turning sad. "Haven't been in one for a long, long time now, come to think of it…a year…"

He had to summon his darkest thoughts in order not to laugh in her face. "Want me to call a friend of yours to talk about it?"

She glared. "You're one to talk! Didn't you tell me you were single?"

"I was married till half a year ago…"

"What!? How old are you?" She wanted to punch that smug sneer of his.

"Twenty-nine."

"And you've been married and divorced already? Leave something for the rest of us…"

The shopkeeper seemed perplexed. "How long have you known each other?"

Saitou looked at his watch. "Give or take half an hour."

The man was gobsmacked, kept looking from her to him in shock and panic; Tokio didn't seem to care or notice him, going back to the colour chart, but Saitou knew. He agreed. His own eyes widened in relief he found some solidarity and shook his head.

"So, what do you think about _this_ colour?" She tapped her finger against the petrol spectrum. "Combined with this for the most of the walls." He leaned in.

"Tokio-chan, don't you think you _shouldn't_?"

"Ken-san," she demanded his attention; not only the man intended, but Saitou too looked at her "I know better." But why did _Saitou_ expect something better was the real question? "Will you look at the damn colours? Show me some of your furniture, too!"

"I know what they look like and that's enough," he dismissed her but made the effort to take a look at them.

Shit. He really liked those colours; the black shade of his three piece in the living room would look very pronounced with this certain hue. And this one, for most surfaces, was a nice mixture of petrol and grey, damn. She actually had a good eye for these things.

"If the dictator says it's alright," he tried to cover it up, shrugging "then I guess we'll have them."

"Splendid!" She clapped. "These colours, Ken-san, the second for, what, three rooms? One full container for the other is enough I think. We could always get some to mix ourselves…"

"No need, Tokio-chan; they are ready. But they have to be painted white underneath for the colour to be that exact shade, yes?"

"Yes, I know; how much time should we wait between first and second hand?"

Ken-san considered. "…it's summer now so no longer than half an hour."

"Ah, nice; we can finish before sunset! Thank you so much, Ken-san! We'll take it now, please."

"As you wish."

When he returned, a younger man who also knew the woman – he blushed at the sight of her and stumbled to speak but called her by her name – carried the heavy stuff, while Ken-san simply brought in some brushes. They were small and just what they needed!

"For the detailed parts," he explained to a curious Saitou, who was relieving the young man from his weight.

Tokio beamed at them! "Thank you so much, again; you are a life saver. Bye Ken-san, Ken-san Two, have a great day."

Just before she exited, she made a motion to the older man, one that simulated writing; he nodded knowingly and bowed after them. Winking, she ushered Saitou outside.

But just as then, the man patted himself down, anxiously. Oh no. "Good thing this place is close, I forgot my wallet in the car," he almost spat out "stay here and-…what? why are you waving me away?"

"We paid the man. Let's go."

"No, we didn't; no money was exchanged." She pursed her lips. "I didn't pay this person."

"Ken-san and I have an understanding, don't worry. Come on."

He didn't move. "I won't let a stranger pay for my expenses."

"If the stranger insists on you making those expenses without asking you if you can afford them or not, then you should." He stared. "No, really, it's on my tab now. It's done, it's written; it can't be unwritten. Come." He stared harder; his face was a dead-set frown. She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll carry it, I don't care."

When she attempted to pry the load off of his hands, he actually withdrew himself, offended beyond belief! "What are you doing?"

"Helping myself to one of the containers?"

"Don't you dare," he growled and started walking back to their building. "How much was it?"

She shrugged. "I'll find out when I come to pay for it."

He could strangle her right now. "Why didn't you ask?"

"Ken-san never takes advantage of the trust his customers show and Ken-san Two develops a crush on every woman who enters the shop twice, so I have nothing to worry about."

He _really_ wanted to strangle her; she was lucky he had his hands full, otherwise he'd kill her!

Only he never did.

Not only did he not strangle her, he didn't even have the heart or time to chase her away. With Okita's "running a little late. Be there in an hour" text, the blow dealt to morale and schedule was too great to ignore. And seeing she was more than ready to get down and dirty, pointing out how this or that should be done and suggesting ways to integrate the colours or styles of things, he couldn't afford to send her on her merry way.

"Don't climb on the ladder with the entire thing, you'll fall," he commented when he caught her with the edge of his eyes.

He had his back at her, painting the wall looking out to the balcony with a roll; she had mounted her roll on one of the two shafts he had brought, staggering each step of the way.

"Ceilings are always white, everyone knows that."

"We already painted it. And that's not what I said."

"The ceilings will remain white, so they need a second layer." She looked at her watch. "Where's that friend of yours anyway?"

"He's coming…I still advise you to get off the ladder."

"You are so uptight," she complained as she ascended the steps.

His grin was skewed. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"It is. It most definitely is."

"Just make sure you don't fall off otherwise I'll have a problem explaining to any sort of doctor exactly what happened."

"I'll be fine, Hajime, stop bossing me around."

"Better luck asking the rooster not to crow," teasing was heard behind her and she immediately turned to the source of the sound. "Hello there; I'm-"

"Souji, he's Okita Souji" Hajime rushed through formalities, thundering at the short man "and you're late."

"I know, I'm sorry pal; the missus wanted my help with a couple of things."

"If that's a euphemism for sex, I'll paint you, too," the taller man threatened.

"If that's a euphemism for sex, good for him, leave him alone. Don't listen to him, Okita-san, he's been like this the entire morning."

"Don't you worry, I know what he's like; and he's like this at any given time of day," he assured her amused "whoever you are…"

"Oh, right, you don't know me. I'm Takagi Tokio, hello. I'm his new neighbour! I live right across the hall."

A glint appeared in the man's eye that went unexplained.

"I see; how nice of you to help him, Tokio-chan."

She smiled carefree in return; immediately, her focus shifted back to the task at hand. The moment she did, Okita all but interrogated Saitou, as silently as possible, with exaggerated stares, gestures and mouthed words. Pretty much flummoxed, Saitou kept shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. No, he had no idea how he was roped into this; no, he didn't know this person previously; no, he didn't get her to do it—he wanted her out of here. Well, maybe not out, but he didn't ask her to do anything. Anything.

Okita struggled not to laugh out loud.

"Instead of whispering behind my back, why don't you grab a brush or roll and get to it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he conformed in an instant. But just as he was about to dip his unused roll into the paint, he stopped short and stared. "Wait, what colour is this?" He looked up alerted. "Saitou, they gave you the wrong paint—this is blue…ish."

"No, that's _the right_ colour." Her tone implied that was undisputable. "No one should have to paint their house white."

The short man looked between him and her startled; when Saitou sighed, resigned, Okita chuckled, disbelief yet glee plastered on his face. Who in earth was this woman who managed to convince Saitou Hajime of all people, to change his mind on something like this?

"And that's for the columns and the protrusions. If you wanna go at it at a wall pick one of the other two."

"What, two colours? Oh my, how trendy of you, Saitou!"

"Shut up or I'll bury you."

"Don't wanna be buried I guess, so I'm shutting up." A pause. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Couple of hours."

"And only now we're getting to actually painting the house!?"

"We had to do it in white first, idiot; can't apply the other colour otherwise."

"In other words, while you and your misses were getting your kicks, we painted this house twice," Tokio said with meaning, earning a collective snort of laughter.

"Man, I wish; she had me move things around actually—my back is killing me."

"You're too young to complain about your back," Saitou snubbed.

"You say that coz you're the pinnacle of health, bastard. We can't all be blessed with such good genes and a tireless appetite for training."

"Genes have little to do with it."

"Genes have everything to do with it," Tokio countered from the ladder "ask me, I should know. I can't get myself lower a certain weight no matter what—genes are important."

They could see what she meant; she was curvy and a little rounder than most women. She was lucky though, the fat deposits were all in the "right" places, as far as what was socially acceptable was concerned. Small waist, tiny compared to her thighs, ample breasts and a soft looking butt. Sure, she could do with losing a few, but she was still pleasing to the eye.

To Saitou's eye at least.

"Weight and being healthy aren't always related," he said instead, "and your weight ranges within normal limits. He's just lazy, hates making the effort."

"But he's so thin."

"That's _my_ good genes; I can eat a wild boar at one sitting."

Tokio held him in her gaze for a while, death in her eyes. " _Prick_."

Tokio was on and off the ladder a number of times; somehow, the shortest person in the room, decided the highest places were best suited for her. She would help in other departments, too and coordinate them well, but she had exclusively handled the ceilings and tricky corners. The really detailed stuff as well as columns and protrusions were left to Okita though, who proved to be an expert with that brush.

Saitou took the biggest walls, easily and steadily blowing through them, with his long hands and even longer reach. The blessing was that by the time they finished one room, the other had pretty much dried and they could at any moment go back to it. but they kept the order clear cut: living room - kitchen, bedroom, guest room and bathroom. The small storing loft, right above the bathroom door, was left alone mostly, other than one hand of white paint that of course Tokio did, per her desire to climb high.

She was the last to finish with all of her appointed tasks, too. Not only did she work more leisurely, she also had to tell them what to do and how at times, so she'd stop her chore to check on theirs. Plus, she didn't feel like she was in a hurry, like the other two did for some unfathomable reason.

She was in fact up on that ladder, adding the finishing touches to the living room ceiling corners – that Saitou had messed up a little with his fast but careless movements – singing something just for herself while the other two were taking their most deserved rest. Sitting down on the floor, they could finally put their backs against _some_ thing, namely the boxes he had brought with him that contained only the essentials.

Okita sighed satisfied, melting against the paper. "Would you look at that…it took us all day, but we are done."

Saitou hummed content, inspecting their handiwork. Both forearms rested on his bended knees, looking as relaxed as ever. What he saw was not bad at all. He hated to admit it, but having that crazy person around made their life easier. She not only guided them but was there before Okita ever came. If it weren't for her, they'd have to come back tomorrow.

His eyes slid – more like returned – to her being as carefree as ever, still crooning an unrecognisable tune. He wasn't sure he even knew the language, she was that much of an oddball. But, he realised with dread, he had to thank her, this strange thing in front of him.

"She really helped," Okita read his thoughts in a low tone, hand ruffling through his own light brown tresses "she's earnest."

He hummed in agreement once more, a little sour this once; Okita chuckled. "Don't have to do it now; get her something nice once you settle in, she'll appreciate it."

"We'll see…"

"Though, I really have to ask, _does she realise what she's wearing_?"

Both men's stares concentrated and intensified at exactly the same spot: her half-exposed ass. They didn't even have to look at one another to know that's what they were talking about, they didn't even have to specify; hell, he didn't even have to mention it, they both noticed the other look or somehow signal to the other to notice.

"No, I don't think she does. She was holding a katana when I first saw her and didn't realise that either."

Okita burst out laughing. "A what!?"

"An actual, real katana. I saw it up close, no replica—looked hefty, too."

"Where did she even get it?"

"That I didn't ask. Why don't you?"

"I will." He gave his friend a look. "Should we tell her about the other thing though?"

A smirk. "Be my guest."

"I'll sound like a pervert!"

"And I won't?"

"She's already come to terms with the idea you're an asshole," he could not avoid the elbow to the gut "she'll just have one more reason to think so."

Another smirk. "But I don't wanna." Okita had to laugh again. "Yet, I won't stop you from doing it…"

The tune died down just then and she climbed off the ladder; they knew because they kept staring at her; they didn't even have to act indifferent when she turned around because they knew just how to act and when, to appear innocuous.

"Oooof, that's finally over with! You should really pay more attention, Hajime-san."

His I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about look was flawless. "Ask Okita, I've been _really_ attentive all day."

"Attentive, my ass! It took me twenty minutes to fix your carelessness." Stupid slang phrases, he nearly had a heart attack! And Okita all but died laughing next to him. "What's his deal?"

"Nothing, Tokio-chan, nothing…just remembered about the sword." That was just spoken of, how sly of him. And the way she changed a thousand colours in a fleeting second was so funny. "How did you come by it I wonder?"

"Ah, that was a gift. It's part of a set of three: that katana, a wakizashi and a ko-wakizashi. They are all hand-crafted by the same man, bearing same colours and crests."

The two men stared, but it was Saitou who made the obvious question. "Why would anyone give you such a gift?"

"It was recognition for my work, if you must know."

"Yeah, come to think of it, you've been here all day; don't you have a job to go to?"

"She works from home," Saitou informed, "hence she gets to bother her neighbours full time."

Saitou ignored her murderous glare, thus Okita ignored the offense on Saitou's face when she kicked his shin with a vengeance. "That sounds incredibly interesting, Tokio-chan! What is it that you do?"

She looked high and mighty, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I'm a writer."

"As in, you make a living out of it?"

The doubt in his voice and face was so potent, she had to kick him again, but on the other shin. He gave her the evil eye.

"I make a fine living out of it."

"Then how come I have never heard of you?"

He would have let it go, had she not hit him a second time.

"I don't use my real name. But people who read my stuff a lot, know it…and my face, most probably, since I post a lot on social media."

"What's your pseudonym, Tokio-chan?" Okita decided to ask, to spare himself the oncoming battle.

"It's Akai."

And they immediately recognised who she was, as witnessed by the look of utter amazement and disbelief.

" _You're_ the super-famous author Akai of The Romantic Samurai series?" She nodded proudly to Okita's incredulity. "You must be loaded!"

"I was born into a wealthy family anyway, but sure, now I can say I am wealthy all on my own, pay for my eccentricities myself."

"Good for you," Hajime started "those books are well-known for keeping very faithful to history. I read the first one myself and it was enjoyable. Also, I expected you much older…what are you, twenty-five?"

"Seven."

"You're a highly prolific writer, so I figured you'd be at least in your late thirties, but…no."

Saitou seemed to be honest and she had to stare. "Is that a real compliment? For me?" She giggled. "How did you come by my book?"

"Our superior is a fan, but…my ex-wife Yaso, she adores your books; you are her favourite author." Now it was her turn to look on in utter amazement. "Has two copies of each one: one for reading and one for storing."

"Aw that's nice of her. But dude, that sucks; you came here after the divorce was finalised – I guess – and you ran right into a reminder of your ex? Harsh."

"Ah, please, no; I am not attached to her. One of the reasons that led to said divorce."

"The other being she's a greedy hag who-,"

"Okita…!"

He stopped instantly. "Sorry."

Her cheeks burned. "I didn't mean to pry, sorry."

"No, it's fine. But we've known you for, what, half a day? Ex wife bashing is an at least two-month acquaintance achievement."

At least he wasn't bitter about the break up, that was a good thing; she laughed along with the other two. But then had an idea. "Did you say she's like a super-fan?"

"Pretty much; follows you on all of your sites."

A malicious grin appeared on her face. "Do you want to make her sting?" The men looked at one another. "Really hurt and seethe all over?"

"Yes," came the natural answer from Okita. She waited until Saitou nodded, too though.

"Then I have just the thing. Wait."

She took out her cell phone; data connection on, apps on the ready. Twitter and Instagram were both needed for this. She started writing. They watched on interested. It took a couple of minutes but she was finally ready. "Now smile!"

She snapped a selfie with Okita jumping into the frame with a peace sign and Saitou, who only just realised what was going on, ducking as far away as he could. "Hahahaha, Hajime! You have to be in the picture, come on." She saw he was surprisingly easy to distinguish so she deemed it satisfactory. "Meh, it's fine; it feels in character, too."

"Wait, you're posting that?" Okita asked incredulous.

"Yeah, sure; tags and everything. Follow me at notthatromanticallyinclinedauthor on all platforms."

"Alright!" Okita exclaimed and immediately did the same as her, opening the data and logging in.

"I don't have an account on any of them," Hajime warned "don't look at me."

"Cute profile pic, Tokio-chan," the short man noted when he saw she had the same picture on all media: she was face to face with a huge Akita Inu, puffing up her cheeks, wearing a flower crown.

"Aw, thanks; that's my sister's dog. He's a huge softie."

A beat of silence and then Okita laughed. "Tokio, that's brilliant!" A scroll down. "Here, read this," he shoved the phone in Saitou's face. "Read from here onward."

Okita had taken him to the twitter thread she made only seconds ago, consisting of a series of tweets, all about their first meeting. It read:

 _Story time!_

 _Yours truly is the single most unaware person in the entire country. My neighbours moved out and I didn't catch on at all, until the new one came in this very morning! Heard the racket and thought they're moving out._

 _They already had._

 _I saw boxes and assumed it was them…but it wasn't._

 _I kept hearing strange sounds, too and you know what a scaredy-cat I am._

 _So, something knocks on my door and I FREAK; grab sword from the display and head to the door; hello? No one answers. I open the door…no one's there. Only a black, perfect rounded ball of LEAD hitting my ankle._

 _It was a weight, Tokio, why didn't you realise from the beginning?_

 _So, I try lifting the thing; heavy af, know what I mean? So, I kick it to my destination: the neighbours. Door was wide open tho; I walk in, pick up the weight. I look around. No one in sight. I call for my neighbour; nothing._

 _I kept calling and talking until someone answered._

 _Definitely not the voice I expected._

 _Even more freaked out, I turn around; there's a stranger at the door, tall and scary and at this point, I have shat my pants; faking composure, I demand the intruder's identity…!_

 _I'm the owner, he says. Hashtag firstimpressionskids hashtag theymatter hashtag dontbelikeme_

 _I DIED. Hashtag embarrassed, hashtag IDIOT_

 _Turns out he's the new neighbour. And I'd just walked into his house uninvited, holding his weight as a rock and brandishing a katana in his face. FML_

 _He took it well tho; didn't kick me out on sight and listened to my suggestions about what colours to paint his house. Hashtag notreallyasuggestion hashtag didntreallylisteneither hashtag buthadnochoicenowhesstuckwithme_

 _Said a friend would come over to help him with the actual labour. Hashtag friendwasawfullylate hashtag toobusyboninghisgirlfriend hashtag stillaprettycoolguytho_

 _Long story short, we just finished painting the house! Took us till sundown but turned out great. Jump over to see the happy workers. hashtag mediajump jashtag hatepostingpicshere hashtag loveyoubabes_

And then, Okita immediately opened Instagram, to see the photo they had just taken: a winking Tokio, a peace-signing Okita, looking taller than usual because he was still mid jump and himself, clearly there, but only distinguishable to those who knew him, trying to escape the frame.

 _Tall neighbour doesn't like having his picture taken lol_ , it read underneath.

"When did you manage to write all of that?"

She shrugged, smile wide. "I write fast."

"Let's see if it'll wor-"

Okita's words died in his throat when they all heard Saitou's phone ring; exchanging looks, he took it out to see "Ex-wife" calling him. The anticipation built up every fraction of a second it kept ringing.

He swiped to answer but put her on speaker. "Yes?"

"You absolute ass Saitou Hajime! You are the new neighbour of my favourite author!?"

Her voice was shrill and full of emotion, they all winced. "What are you talking about?" he faked bewilderment perfectly.

"Akai—Tokio! Takagi Tokio."

"That's the name of my new neighbour, how did you know?"

"Because that's Akai, you moron! It's her nom-de-plume, she's the author."

"I see; then yes." A pause. "How did you know?"

The suspicion in his voice killed both; they were already trying not to laugh, but now it was too hard to even breathe!

"How—she posted it all over Twitter! She helped you paint your house!?"

"Tch, I hate these things; I'll ask her to take it down." Most extra yes in the history of mankind, but it did its job, as they heard her screech for no particular reason. "I should say thanks for telling me but I didn't appreciate hearing you so there's that."

"NODONTHANGUP!"

"What the hell Yaso?"

"Can you…ask her for an autograph for me? Or a signed copy?" The silence turned heavy as the laughter died down. "Do that and I promise to give up on the car."

"…you give up the car, and I'll send you the entire collection."

"Done! I'm calling my lawyer right now!" The pat on Saitou's back was a little more violent than a regular one from Okita; he was a little enthusiastic. "Oh and…Hajime…what's she like in person?"

His eyes slid to her; hers were warning. "…positively insane."

"Not that; I meant if…never mind. You'll hear from my lawyer. Bye."

"Bye."

She hanged up.

"Heeeeeeeey, look who's getting the car back!" Okita all but jumped on his back "Tokio, you're awesome!"

"Why thank you; but what do I get for my services? I mean, he got a car, she'll get a bunch of books…"

"I'll let you arrange the furniture tomorrow." Her eyes sparkled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Oh my god, I always wanted to be an interior designer, only I never really had time for it. Entrust me with it, and I promise I'll make this a place you never wanna leave." She already started looking around, to see where could go what according to potential shape and size. "Will you show me the damn furniture already so I can have a head start?"

"I don't have the damn furniture in my phone; I know what my living room looks like."

"Saitou, you finished buying the furniture not two months ago; they'll still be online, just show her."

He grunted; she shook her head.

"You know boys, the place needs to stay open overnight; so why don't we take the boxes and move them to my place? And let's stay there for tea or something, I need the pick-me-up."

She stretched then…and felt something out of place, apparently, that caused her to look down at herself. She stared; she stayed like that for a long time then, processing the new information. Her colour started changing.

"I'll, uh," she rotated her pointer fingers, settling them towards her apartment "need to, um, change," she started backtracking that way "so why don't _you_ start lifting boxes while _**I**_ lock myself in my room and proceed to scream without actually producing any sound for the next ten minutes?"

"That'd be a nice follow up to your other posts," Saitou suggested as she was leaving and he could still see steam blowing out of her ears.

"I didn't realise I never changed out of my shorts okay!?" She really screamed that one, already out the door. "I hate wearing these around other people!" she was heard but no longer seen.

The two men looked at one another. "Bet other people don't, though," he commented shrewedly and Okita burst out laughing. "Let's take the boxes across the hall."

.

Tea was a quiet affair. Modest, too; Tokio had changed into a simple, blue summer dress – barely above her knee – perfect for welcoming newcomers. She was actually a good hostess, Saitou had to give it to her, for she brought out snacks along with the tea in the same tray and even turned off the air-condition, per their request. They of coursed geeked out over the swords a little, surprised to see them so well-maintained and sharp. They even had a plaque underneath that detailed the date the swords were made and gifted by the Shigaku zasshi, as well as the name of the craftsman.

"You do the maintenance yourself, Tokio-chan?"

"Naturally; I did a lot of research on the Japanese sword, seeing it's the weapon the main character uses, as well as the majority of the cast. I even sharpen it myself when I feel like it—have the whole set somewhere in the house. Use it on kitchen knives, too, very effective."

She held out her palms, proud, to show them they were littered with scars of all sizes; then she flipped them and noticed some small scars on the upside, too, as well as on her wrists and a little lower. "I'm such a klutz, but it's worth it. I make the prettiest dishes."

"Awwwwww," Okita fawned "that's so cute; for whom?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who's the lucky guy who gets to eat your pretty dishes?"

She dimmed; Saitou tried not to laugh. "We don't talk about relationships in front of Tokio."

"I'm single, is what he means," she glared "no lucky guy; lucky siblings instead. And parents. And a sister and brother in law. One nephew. And friends." A pause. "Huh; I give out a lot of food, turns out."

"If you're in the habit of giving out food in general, slide a plate or two my direction some time…if you're any good at cooking that is."

She actually slapped his arm! Okita tried not to die laughing, today that'd be the goal. "Don't try to win yourself a free meal by insulting the person who's going to give it to you, it's bad manners. Wait, did you hear that?"

A short but loud sound; both men looked down at Hajime's cell phone. "I have a text." All looked at the screen at the same time. "It's Yaso's lawyer; says he's drawn up the paperwork."

"Awesome."

Okita extended his palm, and Saitou hit it without even looking up. The smirk of satisfaction appeared on his face. "I guess all that's left is for me to go buy your books and have you sign them…"

"My friend, I keep at least two copies of each around the hose; I can give them to you. I can even throw in a special deal and give her a book with some of my notes in it; you could bargain for a little more with it."

"…why would you do that?"

"Why not, she'll leave you alone."

"No, I know, obviously that's good for me; why would _you_ do it, though?"

She shrugged, "I picked a side now, it's too late to change it." She made a face. "I hate change." Then a devious smile formed. "And I can get you to do something for me one day that you'd otherwise say no to."

"Hahaha, you go Tokio-chan."

"Besides, I'm a bad neighbour; I could come knocking on your door at three in the morning because I heard weird noises from downstairs. I want you to have at least one good memory of me before that time comes."

"Sly fox."

"Nah, don't worry, Tokio-chan. Saitou is very traditional, loves being the man women go to when in fear and doubt."

"What the idiot means is that I'm tolerant when it comes down to one's safety," he explained while trying to grab the short man by the head, but he kept being illusive.

"Glad to hear it; expect a lot of intrusions on my part. The Akira family had basically drawn up a schedule for when I was allowed to pester them, so I suggest you do the same."

This and that, time passed. And when Okita's phone rang, it was his fiancé, they decided to call it a day. "So, you'll be staying with Souji, yes?"

There was a pause from both men then, looking devoid of any emotion. They stared at her for a long time…

"I never asked him."

"I never thought of it."

They spoke at the same time; she shook her head. "Where did you think you'd stay? Where have you been staying till now?"

"…I rented a small flat; the contract ended today." He blanked. "I never realised the house wouldn't be ready to live in today."

"Shit; me neither."

She had to laugh at their simple-mindedness. "Ah, yes, manly men; would finish painting an entire house in two hours and have enough time to move in the furniture." She ignored their annoyance.

"What're you gonna do now? I'd gladly...but Ka-chan, my Ria-chan's sister, is staying over tonight."

What awful timing; he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I can go to a hotel, I suppose."

Tokio scoffed. "Anywhere decent is booked this time of year; you don't wanna end up next to a booty call or worse, do you?"

"What am I supposed to do? I'm not asking for my previous flat, even for one night; the guy is an asshole."

"And both Nagakura and Harada have their in-laws around…"

A low sound was produced by both men as they raked their brains. "I'll tell Ria-chan to cancel with Ka-chan; it can't be helped."

"Do this and Ka-chan will be vindictive for the rest of her life, you know what she's like."

"You won't sleep in your car, dude, no matter how much you like it."

"I'll find a room somewhere, don't cancel it."

"No, I'm calling right now, consider yourself invited."

"Okita, no."

"There's no—give me my phone back, prick."

"No way, idiot; go. I'll be fine."

"You can crush here," Tokio finally suggested, after looking between them this entire time, trying to find the perfect moment to say what she wanted. That only caused both of them to turn to her shocked, nearly offended though; she was confused. "What?"

"You don't know me; I could be a psychopath."

"Are you?"

"Does what I say matter?"

"He's right, Tokio-chan, you don't know him at all. Don't be too trusting with people."

"If either of you wanted to do anything to me you could have done so the previous, what, six hours we spent holed up and no one knew about it? Now I snapped a photo of him and established a relationship of sorts; should anything happen to me, he'd be the first suspect." She turned to him. "And you don't look like an idiot to me." She shrugged. "I have a perfectly fine guest room, clean and orderly. I'd suggest the couch but you're too tall for it."

"I don't think…" Saitou looked at Okita for help, but his friend appeared to be convinced by her arguments. "What do you think?"

"Stay, man, sounds reasonable."

"Huh." He looked left; she was expecting a favourable answer. He looked right; Okita was egging him on to give it. He considered. "Fine. I'll stay. What's the worst that could happen, fall out of bed?"

"Right! And _he_ won't have to get in a fight with the missus."

"It's settled then; you sleep here, she'll sleep here, I'll sleep home…we're cool right?"

"Yeah, just go, you idiot."

"Alright; goodnight people. It was very nice knowing you Tokio-chan."

And with that, he was out the door, wave and smile huge. Her own smile lingered even after he was gone. What a pleasant man.

"I'll be going now, too," Saitou said only after he heard Okita's car pull away "no need to—what's that look for?"

"But we just said!"

"I only said yes to make him go; I'm bound to find a room somewhere." That made her purse her lips and cross her arms in front of her chest. "What's that look for?" he repeated disbelieving.

"I will now go make the bed for you and provide you with appropriate clothes; if you find it in your heart to leave while I'll be labouring over your accommodations, I don't know what to tell you."

Flabbergasted, he watched her walk away. What was up with this woman!? He was doing this for her sae, so people wouldn't talk. If a stranger slept over, it would look bad. But she just did whatever she wanted, trying to force him to do her bidding. If he felt like being bossed around, he'd have stayed with Yaso damn it! Alright, that was mean even in his head, so he decided not to say it out loud. The annoyance remained though.

If that's how she wanted to be, two could play this game. Undeterred, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door…

The bell rang and he stopped dead in his tracks. Even the universe wanted him to stay apparently.

"Tokio, there's someone here."

"I heard," she sounded like she was in the middle of a stretch "I'm coming."

She took some time, but the bell didn't ring twice; and yet, when she opened the door there was a person behind it. He was taller than her, but not too tall, in his thirties. He was a good-looking guy, dressed sharply and face stern. His eyes, nearly as black as his suit, were piercing.

"Sister," he saluted as he took a single step inside "sir."

"Hey Tora," she kissed his cheek casually "how come you're here? It hasn't been a week since you guys last visited."

"I was concerned." He turned to Saitou, formal as ever. "Hello, my name is Takagi Tora. Can you be the neighbour my sister mentioned in one of her Twitter posts?"

"Yes; Saitou Hajime is the name." He gave a bow that felt like a nod.

"I see…and…you do not seem upset to me."

"I am not."

The older man sighed a breath of ultimate relief. "Oh, I am so glad; I read her posts, and I was worried. Didn't want anyone pressing charges on her."

She rolled her eyes "The door was already open," she defended herself "I wasn't trespassing!"

"Tokio, you had a sword, _a real_ sword."

"It was sheathed."

"You still held it as a weapon; even though I repeatedly asked you not to."

Saitou made the connection then. "I take it you are a lawyer, Takagi-san."

"Indeed, I am; her legal advisor, too. Forgive me, but when your stupid, youngest sister is rich, you never know how one may take advantage of it."

"I get it, don't worry."

"I do worry; she's a constant source of trouble." Then Tora bowed deeply, disregarding his sister's glare. "I hope she didn't scare you too much, sir."

He actually snorted with laughter. "A hobbit with a sword that didn't even know how to wield it; I'm frightened."

"D'you just call me a hobbit!?"

"I did. Live with it."

"We can't _all_ be Elves of the High Council!"

Her brother had to look away not to laugh. "All appears to be normal here, so I shall be taking my leave."

"No, come on in, have a drink."

"Can't; the wife and I have reservations and you know how she gets when I am late."

She immediately excused him, waving his worries away. "She barely sees you all day, I'd be upset if you were late at that one dinner date, too." A moment. "You only came to make sure I was alright?" He nodded. "Awww, what a good brother!"

"More concerned than anything; have you looked at Twitter since?" She shook her head. "Well, do and then tell me I should not have been concerned." He sighed. "Bye, stupid." He flicked her forehead. "It was nice meeting you, Hajime-san."

"Speaking of Twitter, I need to post this."

She took out her cell, connected to her wifi already, and started typing; suspicious, he craned his neck to see what she's writing. He glared. "Don't publicise that!"

"Should've thought of that before you said what you said."

"I don't like it."

"Oh, come on, it's not a personal thing." His glare didn't abate. "Last one, I promise."

A critical eyebrow was raised. "Last one."

"Yes! And," she drawled "published. Cool. Now let's see what my brother meant."

"Lemme see what you published first."

 _Random update: my over-185-cm tall neighbour just called me a **hobbit**! To that I say: I'm normal! He's the one who's freakishly tall! hashtag booooooooooooo hashtag gobacktotheundyinglandssnottyelf hashtag justicefortheraceofmen_

He chuckled; she deemed it worthy and went on to read the comments and the retweets…only to stare at her screen wide eyed. Involuntarily her shoulders squared, as her head was approaching the screen more and more with each passing second.

"What is it?"

A smile was starting to form on her face, guilty but without any regrets. "…apparently "tall neighbour" is trending." She giggled at his ire, but he didn't breach the subject, so she let it go. "I'll read the retweets later." A moment of pause. "So, what do you wanna do? I usually sleep late and it's barely nine; you said you had a leave from work, too…wanna watch a movie? I was about to, in fact, when I heard your weight hit the door and got spooked."

"It doesn't sound too terrible."

She was shaking her head the entire way to her laptop, her usb drive, and back into the living room, where the large tv screen was. She had a curved monitor; damn, he was jealous now. He was also startled, for he found himself unwilling to leave as he had intended; kept making up excuses not to move or make a run for it even when she was gone in her room to transfer the file from one device to another. Instead, he slowly but surely made his way to the very comfortable looking black couch situated in front of the dazzling tv, and found the angle that the viewing experience would be best.

Also, she apparently changed clothes again, only this once she went for the pyjamas. They were still more modest than that previous outfit though—a simple pair of black shorts with a red spaghetti strap top.

"You're in my seat," she snapped as she passed by, barely glimpsing him on her way to the kitchen. The kitchen was on the left of the living room, one huge room altogether, much like his, only on the opposite side. "Savoury or sweet snack?"

"Both."

She laughed. "That's a man after my own heart."

Sounds could be heard from the kitchen, but he didn't feel like making the effort to help; so, he chose to believe the two, large bowls simply appeared right in front of him, full to the brim one with chips and the other with chocolate chip cookies. Two bottles of beer on the tray, on either side of the bowls and they were ready.

He said it before, he'll say it again: she was, at the very least, a good hostess.

She pressed play. "It's an American movie, want me to turn subtitles on?"

"No need."

"Cool." She pressed pause. "Now get out of my seat."

"Not happening."

"Hajime."

"I ain't moving; good luck doing it on your own."

She was offended; she was outraged; she was determined. Refusing to lose to him in her own home, about her own couch, she challenged him; he challenged her right back. With a noncommittal grunt she made her stand: she gave him a look and proceeded to fall right on top of him!

"Wh-!?"

Her feet landed directly in his lap, her body perfectly pinning him down.

She smirked. "I don't need to move you to make you move," she gloated at her victory; and to show just how serious she was, she pressed play again. Nonchalant, she reached for the bowl of ships and grabbed a handfull. "Want some? They are oregano flavoured."

"…sure." She actually fed him one; he actually ate it. "I prefer barbeque in general though."

"Mmm, barbeque ones are very hit and miss; too few maintain that original barbeque flavour. Most taste like bacon and I _hate_ bacon."

"Hey, we agree on something." They shared a moment of pleasant silence. "Give me another one."

"Sure."

In the end, no one gave in. Instead, Tokio decided to take the chip bowl in her lap so they could eat easier. Once that was over, she swapped it for the cookies' one. And once that was over, too so was the movie. Yet, they remained huddled on that certain small part of the entire couch, one refusing to let the other win by moving first and losing this most peculiar battle of wills.

In the end, no bed was used; she never got to read her replies or retweets and he never changed out of his clothes. They only fell begrudgingly asleep tangled together in a ball, on her very comfortable couch.

* * *

 **A/N** : End of chapter one, of the first short story! Hope you had fun dearies. And before any of you ask, nope, I have no freaking clue when the next update is coming. Leave a review on your way out, boo, love you.


	2. My famous(?) new neighbour, Part two

**A/N** : I want you to know, I am not being negligent of my other fic, I simply need more time. It's a big chapter for me, a milestone of sorts and I want it to be perfect. So I'm stuck in an endless loop of editing and rewriting because I'm a perfectionist asshole sometimes. Most of the times. Look, it has to be the best it can be...which is why instead I've been vomiting words in this one and look where we are. Hope you enjoy lovelies.

So, on to the next chapter. There's one more coming, and then it's on to the next one!

 **Facts** : Kyoto has no airport; the Kansai International Airport is on a man-made island in the Osaka bay. The Haruka limited express train takes you from Kyoto straight to the airport in less than 72 minutes. As the name suggests, this airport handles international flights while the Osaka International Airport only handles domestic flights nowadays (it was built first; the KIA was built to help with overcrowding at that OIA).

 **Title** : My famous(?) new neighbour. **  
** **Genre** : Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe** : Neighbours, modernday

* * *

A sudden, jolting sound; her heart beat quickened. Another sound; it bothered her. Why did it bother her? Where was the sound coming from? She couldn't tell, everything was dark…but she wasn't scared. Then why was everything black?

Slowly, her consciousness came back and she remembered she was in her home, lying on her bed…sleeping. She had been sleeping until something woke her up! She nearly jumped and her heart rate became faster. In another second, she finally realised the sound was knocking on her door.

Wait a minute…what time was it?

She looked at her watch: it read four past four in the morning.

What. The hell?

Now she was getting upset. Not scared necessarily, but visibly upset. It was too late, even for her, to be banging on people's doors. Still, concern crept up at her and after she threw her blanket off, she made sure her footfalls were silent, hand instinctively going for the sword as she passed by it. Slow but certain steps led her to her front door, light never being turned on.

As she looked through the key hole though she saw light, nearly blinding her, and a very familiar by now figure: Saitou Hajime.

She stared.

What the hell!? Wasn't he the one who kept telling her she was being too inappropriate this entire past week she knew him, for bothering him at odd hours and almost all the time? How come he appeared at her doorstep at four in the morning? She couldn't see his face, too – he was too close and could only see from the neck and lower – to guess his reason for visiting.

And yet, she couldn't not open the door; he might have been sour every single time he had let her in but never did he leave her outside. So, she turned on the lights and pulled the door open.

"Hajime."

His face was unreadable, but only one thing was sure: it was nothing positive he was feeling. "Tokio."

"Why are you…" a huge yawn "at my door at this hour?"

"I just came back from work," her eyes would have widened in shock, had she been any less sleepy "and I wanted to let you know one of these days, I'll kill you."

"What did I do now?"

"Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ at the precinct or on the field, who knew me, kept calling me _tall neighbour_ instead of my actual name!"

She couldn't help it; she burst out laughing, sword falling on the floor, forgotten. She clutched at her stomach and before long she was making the hugest effort to remain standing, back supported on her open door.

Saitou's glare intensified. "You laugh; I'm telling you I'll kill you, and you laugh."

She started coughing, laughter with shortness of breath mingling. She let go of her stomach and put her hands on her knees to support herself. "I, I, I'm sorry, Hajime," she was hiccupping along "I'm so sorry…I didn't mean for it to take such proportions."

"It's my superior's fault for showing it to everyone, too but come on; what else did you post for people to be like that?"

"Nothing, I swear; last thing was the Hobbit thing." He glared, just as he'd let up, too and wouldn't allow her to dismiss him so easily. He wanted answers damn it! "I didn't, even before you told me you were with the police, come on."

"Then what did people comment? The initial reaction must have been huge for them to make such a big deal even a week later."

Her smile was guilty. "I did keep an eye on the tag and it's still trending…" His annoyance, shock and exasperation were one of a kind. She **had** to giggle. Add to that being so rudely awakened and there you have it. "Alright, come in otherwise we're gonna bother people."

She stepped to the side and he followed, going straight for the black leather couch. Sighing amidst her chuckles, she went to sit on his right, but on the other black leather couch, the smaller one. "Want something to drink?"

"Water."

She continued with her story only after he had a sip or two. "People are still talking about you and I don't know why; of course, this being the internet, half of them are nice, friendly puns or comments, while the rest is nasty. But they took a liking to the situation I guess, there's been too much traction. I think your attitude of not wanting to be on social media started a whole discourse about privacy and it's been crazy. Also, everyone is looking for your twitter, facebook or whatnot accounts and they can't find them, so they are calling you a ghost, too."

He must have rolled his eyes twenty times during that short amount of time it took her to explain; it was really funny to her but he hated every second of it.

"Can't you tell them to stop?"

"Oh, and they'll listen," she nodded her head condescendingly "they always do. The mob of strangers on the internet."

"Alright, that was stupid. But can't you do something? They are driving me crazy…!"

"They are _your_ colleagues. Nothing I say will reach them. Unless…"

It was obvious she thought of something and his interest was immediately captured. "Unless," he prompted?

"Unless, I contact your superior and convince him to stop the others for you…"

He clicked his tongue displeased. "Good luck with that."

"You give me his twitter or something and I'll take care of it."

He was still not buying it. "Just like that?"

"I can be very persuasive when I need to." She smirked. "And since he's a fan, I know just the thing."

"Alright; I'll trust you. I'll give you what you need tomorrow or the day after…it'll take a bit of sleuthing, but I will. Provided they don't stop of course."

"Naturally."

"That's that, I'm going. It's late and I need the rest, I have an early shift tomorrow." Was it his idea or now that his anger had subsided he felt like he was cold…in the middle of the summer? They both slowly walked to the door then, dutifully seeing him out and stood as he stopped at the threshold. "By the way," he said, turning to her "you should do something about that air-condition of yours."

"But I like it; I sleep with a blanket."

He rolled his eyes. "Why would you need a blanket in the middle of the summer?"

"Because I have the air condition on."

She really was crazy. "Then shut it down a little."

"I don't wanna."

"Right; you prefer wrapping yourself in a blanket and sleeping in your underwear."

"I'm not sleeping in my underwear."

He smirked. "Tonight, you are…" He glanced fleetingly downwards, proceeding to stare at her, eyebrows high. He had the decency not to stare at her exposed thighs but the truth of the matter remained; she looked at herself and saw it, too: she really was in her underwear.

He turned around to leave again, deciding he made a fool out of her enough for a night, as she just stood there, internally screaming.

"Goodnight, Tokio," he said as he almost reached his door. She was still unmoving.

The entirety of the next day, Tokio didn't see or hear from Hajime. It felt a little odd, if she were being honest. The previous transitional week of their most peculiar meeting, he was always around, settling in still, and would always be there for her to bother. Second day of their meeting and she arranged every single room in his home – other than the bedroom, of course –. Third day, she had him buy a new coffee table.

She laughed at the memory.

She had lured him there with the pretence he needed new curtains – or any curtains, really – and he had agreed. But she purposefully chose a place where mostly furniture was sold rather than linens, so she could sneak it past him. And when they found themselves in front of a seller, his reaction was golden.

"What? I don't need a new coffee table."

"Sure you do."

"What's wrong with the one I have now?"

"It screams "the odd one out"." His flabbergasted expression said no; her raised eyebrows said yes. He didn't abate though, so she had to explain. "It's brown."

"So?"

"All your other furniture is black, with a touch of grey."

"So?"

"Three colours in the living room? That's a no-no; right sir?"

The seller had the most amused look on his face, used to this type of quarrelling, but apparently never this fun. "It's ill-advised," he decided to take the side that would undoubtedly win in the end; and when Saitou growled defeated after a beat, he knew he made the right choice.

Then he cleared his throat and fixed his uniform. "Am I to assume you're looking for something black then?"

Tokio nodded excited. "Indeed; minimal. Discreet but memorable."

"Ah," the seller looked pleased he was finally given that description "I have just the thing. Please follow me."

He led them one exhibition living-room after the one they were standing right in front of, on the right. They were both quite taken by the likeness it bore to Saitou's living room, the style was the same. This man knew his job quite well. And then he pointed directly at what they were searching for and Tokio's eyes shone!

"Look at that; it's perfect! The size is right, the hue is right; even the accents of grey-white are matching to the other ones. Hmm…I am quite fond of this thick wood, very durable," she commented while actually knocking on it with her fist "and look at the modern design! It's like a thin box that you took out the insides and you are left with the hollow."

"It's decent."

"It's both modern and minimal and I love how it looks timeless; the greyish rugs would go perfectly with it, too."

"It's decent," he repeated like she was being superfluous.

"And if we get those pretty curtains that I saw online, hmm" she made a sound no person should make outside of the bedroom, it was too suggestive "perfection! Oh, look, these are the curtains!"

Easier distracted than a dog with a ball, her head snapped left, where samples of said curtains were on display. "Look, look, these are them! They are made in bulk I see…so you cut them in whatever height and width we want?"

"That's the logic behind it, yes," the seller confirmed.

"Ah, good thing we measured it before we left!" She elbowed him excited. "It's really perfect. How can you say no to that?"

"I never said no, I said it's decent."

"Yeah you did." The way he widened his eyes defensively, told her otherwise. "Okay, when I say "it's decent"" she air-quoted "it usually means "you can do better"."

"When _I_ say it's decent, without the attitude, it means it's decent."

"But you're not excited…" she mumbled in the end, crossing her hands.

"It's just a coffee table; and the other one isn't even broken, yet…"

The seller sensed the stalemate. "So, what do we do?"

Hajime sighed heavily, unable to overlook his neighbours pleading and at the same time hurt expression. "If the dictator says it's perfect, can't leave it behind…"

She actually clapped at that, as she was used to do apparently when something went her way, and cracked her knuckles. "We'll take the table and the curtains! Here are the dimensions of the window doors and their number." She handed him a piece of paper. "We want two-piece for all of them, to part effortlessly, and, why not, a nice drape over the long ones, a touch darker colour. You seem to have excellent taste, sir, so we'll leave it to you. Just make sure it matches what we've already discussed. Yes?"

She turned to Hajime for reassurance.

"I guess."

"Then that's that! Let's go pay, and we're ready."

" _I'll_ go pay," he warned and there was nothing forgiving in his glare.

He still hadn't forgotten about the paint thing and he was still not okay with it. How could he ever be, when he was the one who paid for everything, even before he got married? But she couldn't possibly know that, which was the only reason he didn't make a big deal out of it. Also, she was rich; she could afford his paints and his ego could afford not feeling too bruised. But he did notice her making the effort to reach for her wallet and had to give her the death glare.

"Enjoy your coffee table," was what the seller told them once the curtains were ready, too and they were about to leave. "And if the Misses really doesn't like it, we could always take that other coffee table off of your hands for you…"

"The brown one you mean?" Saitou asked. The man nodded. "That's mine; so are these. But she isn't."

She rolled her eyes. "What he means is, we aren't together." She shook her head, as they were leaving. "Why does everyone think we are?"

His displeased "are you kidding me" stare went unseen or unaddressed.

No matter what, even after that, Okita came over to see the place, so did some of his other work friends. That was how she was certain he was in the police, even before he confirmed it: each and every one of the men was fit and a stickler for rules—some more than others, of course. Even Souji, the freest spirited one, had a knack for adhering to some sort of guideline. Plus, when she had come over the fifth night, to see what was up because of the uncharacteristic sounds of voices from his apartment, she finally heard the word precinct.

Not to mention, she saw not only the leg weights and other fitness gear, but also a gun and something resembling the ceremonial uniform of the police in his effects. But it was his friends that drove the nail to the coffin.

"This is my neighbour, Tokio," he carelessly introduced her when she walked over and knocked on the door. He had begrudgingly let her in that night in fact, for Okita made a big deal out of calling her name.

His fiancé, his precious Ria-chan, was his date and she was the cutest; Tokio thought they made a good match. She was also shorter than her, so she felt good about that, too. But she was a dear, never even so much as a jealous or annoyed glance sent her way, despite Okita gushing over how big of a help she was to them.

The rest of his friends were married, and their wives were their dates, naturally: Harada Sanosuke and his wife Harada Hina were the sexiest people in the room, she decided. The man was a tall, well built man, with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes; his attitude screamed of some sort of danger while his mess of hair was up in a casual bun on the top of his head. Hina was tall and lean, with natural light brown hair and a beauty spot right underneath her left eye. Her lips were full and red and her dress deep black. Coupled with her glasses and how she looked over them for emphasis or reprobation, it reminded Tokio of the hot librarian stereotype.

Nagakura Shinpachi and Nagakura Haru were the sweetest ones; the bespectacled man with the adorable curly hair, in the company of the shy woman, was a feast for sore eyes. Whenever they stood next to one another they'd somehow touch; she'd imperceptibly lean into him while he'd put a hand on her middle; she'd caress his hand that rested on her thigh. They were very cute!

And they were all talking about a superior or a case. No way they weren't in the police.

But this, it was a housewarming party.

How odd Saitou must have felt he didn't have his own wife by his side. He must have been feeling all out of sorts. Thus, as a proper lady, per her parents' teachings, she decided to be magnanimous and play the part of the hostess, without actually being one. She'd refill glasses, she'd make conversation, she'd resupply the dips and the snacks…she even urged people to leave the cleaning up to them – "I'll help with tidying up, I live right across the hall you know" – and go back home.

"You didn't have to do this."

It was said after everyone had left, around midnight, and the buzzing had all but died down. So had the sounds of dishes being washed and whatever had spilled being cleaned or thrown into the washing machine. It was said when they finally had time to sit down and assess their progress of the day.

"I didn't have to do what?"

"Come over; cook; help."

"Ah," she realised between chuckles "that's alright. That's what neighbours are for."

"I'm pretty sure neighbours are for emergencies or borrowing cups of sugar."

She giggled. "Am I trespassing? Is this about privacy?"

"The fact I didn't actually invite you notwithstanding, I meant you didn't have to go into all that trouble. We know each other less than a week."

Her smile was big and honest, much like everything about her. He decided he liked that about her. "Like I said, Imma need something one day; might as well associate myself with positive emotions."

"You manipulative fox."

She shrugged. "One does what one can."

But the commander hadn't made it that day, so her fan remained a mystery to her. It would taste a little sour to him, too, she figured, for everyone but him to be introduced to her. No wonder he started teasing Saitou the moment he came back, he **was** sour! But no matter what, after such a full first week, it felt almost out of place to not be able to see him for an entire day. The fact she had posted about the underwear incident and people blew up about it, too didn't make her feel any better.

She mentioned no neighbour, not even a gender, yet the comments exploded with the speculations the person was him and – not that it had died down any – the tall neighbour hashtag exploded all over again. She felt like dying…but she also felt like a detective and managed, without fail, to find out what his ex-wife and his commander went by in twitter. Ex wife was much easier, seeing Tokio had a name to work with: Yaso. Anything close to that which referenced a divorce or what not, it could be her. Plus, if she was a superfan, she only needed to find out who was one of her first followers that always commented on her stuff but said nothing about the picture and the Hobbit post.

Quite right she was, the "independent-woman-Yass" was Yaso. Not only did her info say that was her name and she was "pretty and free", but most of her posts included pictures of her, praising herself and bitching about her ex. Never specified if it was husband or boyfriend but from the contents and the personality of the man described, Tokio was certain it was Hajime. The odd thing was she found all Yaso was bitching about hilarious instead of hurtful.

Oh well. Maybe being inside for so long on her own did something to her.

There were a few posts about body positivity in there, too and some feminist things, which Tokio appreciated; Yaso was also a judo instructor, as in that was her real job, and there were pictures of her in full gear and at competitions with students, which Tokio thought were pretty badass. Yaso was tall; well-built, but lean.

Tokio felt a little jealous; Yaso had a pretty face, too and she seemed like a kickass person. Damn. She lost in almost every comparison. At least…Tokio was more successful? Nah, it didn't hold up. Damn times two. She would definitely not be telling Hajime about this.

Which was why she moved to his superior fast, only he was much harder to find. He too had been a fan, but had no idea for how long. She never definitively heard a name that belonged to the man when they had all gathered, they kept mentioning names she never heard before but they were too many. And no one bothered to explain who was who.

So that was one lead down.

But she had another: the man was Okita's superior, too. There was no way one of his men had a twitter account and someone as controlling as they made him out to be, wouldn't be following said account. Not to mention he would undoubtedly try to spook them by pretending he "just knew" things he couldn't otherwise know. So, instead of looking for an account that held a likeness to a name, she started looking for an account that followed both her and Okita.

That plus any accounts that had to do with police officers. Or at least police HQ. honestly, Tokio had no idea what position the men had other than they were in the police, no one bothered to tell her. Judging by the lack of uniform and the very obvious suit he was wearing when he came back from a late shift, he must be a detective. Of what, go figure. Maybe assault and shit, since both Okita and he were entirely too ready to chastise her for allowing a stranger in her home.

Thus, she did her best and after three whole hours of searching, she finally found him: theonehijiseesall was his screenname and oh boy was it accurate. But what was even more accurate was her impression of him being a control freak. It hadn't been a moment she sent him a message, not only had he answered, he was basically interrogating her.

 _No worries; my name is Takagi Tokio, Hajime's new neighbour. The author of the romantic samurai series, you know me, right? heard you like my books._

… _I do._

 _Great! Then this will make things easier: if you could make people at work stop calling Hajime "Tall Neighbour" then I'll give you an incredible piece of news for my work._

 _I can do that. But why would you want to do that?_

 _He threatened to make my life miserable.  
And perfect! Then be informed, and please be quiet about it, I shall be publishing my eighth and last book of the series this October, around the 15_ _th_ _!_

… _legit?_

 _Yes. The announcement will be formally made at the end of August, give or take; seeing it's only July 28_ _th_ _, you can understand why I asked you to please be quiet._

… _thanks._

 _And one last thing! You need to stop calling him that, too, except for extraordinary circumstances._

 _That I don't feel like doing._

 _You do realise I could spoil the entire book for you right?_

 _You wouldn't dare._

 _I'll tell you four things; only one of them will be right. Good luck finding which!  
No? Nothing? Alright, I'll start. In the last book my main character will do one of the following: (1/5)_

 _I accept your terms, Takagi Tokio._

 _Thank you, sir~! Hope I meet you in person soon enough_.

It was the very next day, the third since Hajime started working, that Tokio saw him again. It was at another ungodly hour of the morning and he had just come back from another shift. Did he have the night shift? She was pretty sure he didn't, she heard him leave at eight am. There's no way he has 12 plus hours shifts.

But her bell rang and she was jilted from sleep, only this once, she didn't grab the sword. She only made sure she was properly clothed and headed for the door.

"Hajime."

He was smirking; he was in a good mood. "Tokio."

"Pulling another long shift at work? It's…" she yawned "half past four. What up?"

"I'm homicide; once my shift ends, I come back home, or at least I try. If there's an emergency they call me and I'm expected to answer. And this week…has been rough for the populace of Kyoto. Many murders."

"That's just terrible."

"I know. But it is how it is. Anyway, that's why I'm here _now_ ; what I wanted though, was to thank you." He shook his head. "I don't know how you did it, but they all stopped. Even Hijikata."

"Hijikata is your superior I presume?"

"Yes, obviously."

He waved her off but she grew testy; this was useful information she could have received _two days ago_! She glared, but he didn't seem to care; in fact, he only grew a little excited and slapped her with the back of his hand. "How did you do it? I never gave you anything. Not to mention he's very stubborn."

"Every person has their buttons," she decided to say, instead of the truth.

"Oh, come on, tell me."

She shook her head, enjoying his curiosity and taking her revenge for the complete lack of communication from him at the same time. "Some things are better left unsaid. And now," she yawned again "if that's all, I'd like to go back to sleep."

"Sorry, yeah. I was just impressed by the immediate results of your meddling."

What disapproving language…! And to think he was trying to compliment her. "See? Some meddling can be proven useful."

"So far, all your meddling has proved to be useful to me, still doesn't mean I like it."

She let out a frustrated gasp. "Even when I help, I still do nothing right."

"Your words, not mine…" His tone might have been holding a second meaning but his eyes were playful.

"Idiot."

"Goodnight, Tokio; glad to see you learnt how to wear shorts properly…"

She managed to land a hit on his shoulder by extending her arm while he was walking away.

.

He heard his phone ring, despite the loud noises and sounds of conversation all around him. He felt it vibrate, too. He looked at his screen and saw a number he didn't recognise. He became a little suspicious. "This is detective Saitou Hajime."

"Hey neighbour! How are you?"

"Ah, that's why I don't know the number. Congratulations. You just managed to bother me at work, too" he commented, yet it was obvious by the small tug on his lips, he wasn't all that annoyed finding out it was her.

"Hey, now! Be kind." He could hear the smile in her voice so he wasn't too concerned. "I am a bearer of…mediocre news."

"What those may be?"

Okita caught a glimpse of his friend on the phone; it was time for payback. "Detective Saitou, get off the phone," he shouted, coming closer and closer by the second. "We have a murder to solve here…!"

"Heard that?" he asked, prompted by his overenthusiastic colleague. "Need to solve a murder—"

"No, wait, this is about you!"

"Oh?" He stopped his hand. "How so?"

"You received two packages; the delivery guy just left them at your door coz you didn't answer."

Ah, shit. His delivery was due today, he'd forgotten about that. He mentally swore, trying to swat away an interfering Okita, who was now bumped up to annoying status. "Can you—Okita, will you zip it—and I don't believe I'm asking this, can you pick them up? I'll come take them off your hands tonight."

"Who are you talking to, Detective Saitou~?" Okita kept it up. "Wrap it up, Detective Saitou~!"

His head whipped around to glare at the shorter man, who was aimlessly circling him, just to get on his nerves.

"Already done that, don't worry!" Thankfully Tokio's voice was steady and booming against his ear and he didn't have to smack his friend. "Figured you wouldn't want such dangerous things out in the hallway. Just wanted to make sure the spare gun parts as well as upgrades are what you wanted."

"Yes; that and bullets."

"Hang up already Detective Saitou~!"

Tokio could hear him alright; she couldn't stop chuckling. "Alright cool; that's what's in here."

"That's a relief; and thanks for everything."

"No problem, bye bye; good murder-solving, you two."

She hanged up. Saitou wasted no time and the moment both his hands were available, he slapped the back of his partner's neck and used the other to swat his partner's retaliation. "Don't be such an idiot, Okita."

"But who was it?"

"It was Tokio, she called me about the upgrades I ordered; they're finally here."

Okita gaped. "You gave her your number!?" Saitou's "duh" face went ignored. "You've never given anyone this number, ever! Only us and Yaso have it."

"She scares easily."

From his tone and the way he rolled his eyes, Okita could tell he must have had some experiences that left him with no other choice. "Better I can assess the situation myself rather than go there for no reason." He shook his head. "She had me chasing ghosts three nights ago. If she had my number, she'd have called, I'd have told her go back to sleep and that'd be the end of it."

Okita's eyes shone dangerously. "Or told her to come sleep with you instead, eh," he kept elbowing him as he talked, ever suggestive, "to chase away the bad dreams."

"Guh, are you insane? If I had so much as mentioned that, she'd have come over with two sets of clothes, her own pillow and a blanket!"

"That's…" Okita deflated "not what I meant."

"That's how she would have taken it," he said wisely.

The smirk returned. "Ah, but if she didn't?"

Saitou snorted. "Leave me alone. It's barely been a month I've had my car back for good."

"I never said you should get married again. Just have some fun; after all, it's been what…seven months since you've been officially divorced?" They both nodded. "Seven months, all alone, no companionship, _no sex_ …"

"That's still better than our vic' over here," Saitou jutted his jaw towards the man on the floor "if you're still interested in figuring out who killed him."

"Okay, I get it, you're in no mood to talk about your love life."

"I don't have a love life and I'd prefer it stayed that way."

"You don't have a love life _yet_ …!"

Shaking his head, Saitou concentrated on the victim.

.

"Here he is, late again," she announced as she opened the door he just knocked on "what kind of time is this, Hajime? Doesn't your shift end at 4? It's ten pm!"

"Are you my mother?"

"No," she drawled displeased "but for the entire month I've known you, every day you've been at the precinct, you're working overtime! That can't be healthy."

"People don't choose convenient times of the day to kill, that's true." His sarcasm was so potent, she almost attacked him. "I'll file a complaint with the police—oh wait. I am the police."

She couldn't hold back this once; she physically reached out and smacked him on the shoulder three times! "Are you done?"

"No, and I'm just saying, I'm concerned, you don't have to be a dick about it." She had that universal look of indignation on every woman's face when a man did something stupid. "You barely average four nights of sleep every night. That's gonna cause a problem if it keeps up for another month."

"I'm just here for my boxes, just give them to me."

"Fine," she exhaled "I'm bringing them." She left the door open, so he took that as a cue to take a step inside. "All I'm saying is, there have to be more detectives than you and your partner in the entire precinct," she was heard from inside the bedroom and closet she was rummaging through "so you don't have to handle all the emergencies."

"It'll die down once Nagakura comes back from leave and Harada finishes training the Shinomori newbie," he finally humoured her and shared the reason for the hectic schedule. "We'll all be more relaxed."

There was really no reason to tell her, nor was there a reason for her to be concerned, he knew that but it turned out both of these things happened, to his surprise, and he didn't even feel pressured into it.

"Ah, I see; you're effectively two men down," she observed, as she came out of her bedroom, two large boxes in her hands. He wanted to help, but he hadn't taken off his shoes, so he hesitated going in. "It's fine, I got it." She reached him and he immediately relieved her from her load. "Here they are…!"

He stared. "Please tell me it wasn't you that wrapped them like this…"

"It was me, actually," she gloated; he chuckled. "You don't like my choices?"

The small box had grey wrapping paper with patterns of black guns being reloaded; the big one had skulls all over, smoke surrounding them. "They are fitting." A pause. "You really are a little crazy, aren't you?"

"I just wanted some symbolism."

"Right; you are a writer after all. Such subtle symbolism is to be expected."

She slapped his shoulder—fourth instance she was violent with him tonight. "I'm so sorry I couldn't find the pinnacle of irony and metaphor for your gun parts and bits and pieces!"

"Goodnight Tokio," was all he said in return "and don't wake me up this once, alright? I need the rest."

"Pfff, goodnight."

.

.

Hajime stared at his neighbour's door hard.

It was the first time after a month and a half that he got off work on time and he had decided it was time to address the thing he hadn't so far: get Tokio something nice for all her help. Not only about the house, but that dinner party he hosted, the cellophane wrapped dishes he'd find at his doorstep at any hour of the day, with always the same note attached: nourishment for the restless; even the little things she did that proved convenient…

Alright. He needed to get her something, hell, he _wanted_ to get her something now, because he felt she did too many things for him and he hated feeling indebted.

That's why, while he was coming back from work, he made a short stop at the nice, popular restaurant. He read the dessert menu and picked out the New York cheesecake; gave the order, waited for five minutes and he was out the door with the treat.

The difficult part was to actually knock on Tokio's door. he had no idea why, but it felt like if he did this, there'd be no turning back. From what? He didn't know yet. So, he took a deep breath and braced himself. His knuckles rapped against the wood and he waited.

"Ah, hello there Hajime! Back already?"

"Yes, finally, a normal day at work."

"Great, you managed to get off on time. What can I do for you?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing, I just wanted…this." He held the paper bag at her eye level. "Here, have it."

"…and what's this?" She sounded as curious as defensive; she undoubtedly recognised the name of the restaurant – she'd mentioned she wanted to go there twice, which was one of the reasons he went there – but that only seemed to put her on alert. Still, she took the offering and slowly tried to get to the bottom of this on her own. But when her eyes fell on the triangular box, cut in the size of a huge piece of pie, she immediately lit up. "Is this what I think it is?"

"It's cheesecake," he answered for he had no idea what she thought this could be; he was glad to see her unreservedly beam up at him. "You mentioned you wanted to visit that restaurant and I wanted to get you something so…"

"Oh." She drew a blank. "I just assumed you ate there and brought me leftovers." His offense was cute. "But you went just for this?" He nodded, exasperated. "How sweet of you! And you actually remembered I wanted to go there…!"

It was obvious she was satisfied, thus so was he. "What's the occasion, Hajime? Are you trying to bribe me for something?"

Oh, ouch. "I just wanted to thank you." She didn't seem to get it. "For, you know, everything." She still didn't get it; ah shit, he had to say it now. He tried not to look away. "This month and a half could have gone much worse if it weren't for you. It pains me to admit it, but you've been a great help."

"Oh, now I'm not meddling and insufferable huh?"

"You are, but you can't only have bad qualities, right?"

"Oh my god," she half-laughed, half-gaped "such an asshole…even when he brings cheesecake."

"You do like cheesecake, right?"

"Oh yeah, no worries."

"Good, I didn't know what to get you; just eat it within 24 hours, or it'll go stale."

She snorted. "I love how you think it's gonna last more than two hours." Then she gave him a look. "I mean, it's not a mille-feuille, my most favourite treat **ever** , but it's close."

"Just throwing that in there, eh?"

"For future reference."

He shook his head. "I see; it's gonna be a sweet future." When she actually winked, he had to go away or he'd laugh and the last thing he needed was her getting more liberties under the pretence she was funny. "Bye Tokio."

"Bu-bye~! And thank you very much, I'll enjoy this! Oh, do you want me to save you some?"

"I have never shared a piece of anything, ever; won't start now."

She clicked her tongue. "No wonder you're divorced."

"Right," he drawled amused, although he should have been a little offended "that's why I divorced: because I couldn't share." In retrospect, that wasn't wrong, technically.

"Anyway," she tried to forget the last two sentences ever happened "I am the one who wants to share, you just have to be willing to taste it."

"Eat it, Tokio. I bought it for you. If I wanted something sweet, I'd have gotten something for me, too."

She shrugged. "…alright! Thanks for the treat. See you around."

"See ya."

.

.

There was knocking on his door; he groaned. Just as he thought he was going to have some peace and quiet, with Tokio nowhere to be seen for the entire previous evening, hoping to God she would grace him with her absence this one, too, this happened. He shook his head. As if it wasn't enough Yaso had been calling him all day, for some unfathomable reason, now this.

What was it with the women in his life that were so persistent?

Just as he reluctantly peeled himself from the floor – where he was doing his afternoon exercises – his phone rang at the same time and, wouldn't you know it, it was Yaso of course. He put it on silent and let it ring, much like every other time it rang today, and simply headed to the door.

"Tokio."

Because who else would it be?

"H, uh, hi!"

He gave her a look; what was up with her? Suddenly she was smiling in that not so innocent way of hers, as if she knew something he didn't, looking away but back at him all the time; a blush started creeping at her cheeks, too. Huh?

"Hello to you, too."

"Where you in the middle of something? Am I bothering you?"

"The usual work out, to which I'd like to get back to asap, so what d'you want?"

"Oh, that explains the…" she waved her thoughts away, just as she had pointed at him. "Never mind. I wanted to tell you about something! It's no big deal, but—"

There was ringing again; damn it, it was Yaso, **again**. What was up with her today!?

"Won't you get that?" Tokio asked deviously.

"No, she's been-,"

"Get it and put it on speaker. It has everything to do with why I'm here."

Saitou Hajime was not amused. Did Tokio say something to Yaso somehow? Or did Yaso contact her? One eyebrow raised high, he finally did the one thing he avoided the entire day, and swiped to take her call.

"You absolute ass Saitou Hajime, why won't you answer me!? I called you a hundred times!"

"You might not be exaggerating as much as you think."

Tokio struggled not to laugh.

"Whatever, I have a reason for calling! Takagi Tokio is releasing a new book on October; did you know that?"

No, he did not know that. His silence pretty much confirmed it for his ex-wife. And when he turned to Tokio looking surprised, she nodded affirmatively with a stupid smile on her face. so…it was true. Huh.

"So, you also don't know that she promised to release three or four hundred signed copies, with a special, personal note to the person who'd get it; said they'd all be fans, too, she'll post a thing you can submit your name in, at her website. She announced it this morning."

"I may live next door to her, but in case you forgot, I work _outside_ of home and we are not attached at the hip." _So bitter_ , Tokio mouthed at him; he glared. "But I'm guessing you want me to make sure she doesn't miss your name?"

"Yes, yes, pretty please, Hajime, please…!"

Ah, Tokio could hear the wife in this, not so much the ex; the pleading voice, the cutesy tone, the sweet after-effect…she was trying to get her way. Tokio could imagine the person she saw in those photos pouting and looking adorable and she tried not to feel too wanting in comparison.

"And what do I get for my troubles?"

"You're all demands and needs, jeez, can't you just do it for me? For old time's sake."

He scoffed, not falling for her tricks. "You're trying to get something for nothing, but need I remind you why the judge ruled in my favour?"

"You're so mean, Hajime…! Just this one little favour…!"

"Alright, I'll tell you what: I'll do this now for you, and if I deliver, you'll stop asking me for things from now on. Unless it's a matter of real life and death, no more favours."

"…that sounds fair." A pause. "If you deliver."

Tokio gave him thumbs up, trying to ignore the little heavy atmosphere she felt all around. "I'll deliver; I always do. Just make sure you enter your information correctly."

"Yes!" she squealed with delight. "Thank you so much, Hajime, thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best!"

"Whatever; bye."

"Bye!"

Once the call was ended, that heaviness wafted through the air around them, settled on their shoulders. Somehow, he didn't feel like going back to his push ups anymore; she too had dimmed, looking around sheepishly. But, on the upside, he realised why she was blushing before: he'd forgotten, but he was actually shirtless. When he used the towel to take the sweat away and put it back on his neck, it dawned on him.

Heh, that made him feel a bit better.

"Is this what you wanted to tell me about?"

"…yes and no."

Her spryness returned and she all but jumped around, from him to his kitchen, to his fridge and back again.

"You see, I just announced my eighth and final Romantic Samurai series book will be published in October as well as that contest Yaso mentioned." She had poured a glass of water for both of them and she started drinking hers. "But wait, there's more! In order to honour my five-year anniversary, as well as announce and create a stir around the fact this will be _the first book_ that both the Japanese and English versions will be published at the same time, I have booked a series of interviews with American channels and stuff…"

"That's…great."

"Well, yes, but this is how I see it: Yaso asks you for something; you ask for something in return. I do what you ask but I too want something in return."

"And what can that be?" She reached into her pocket and produced a key. He stared at it. "You want me to make copies for you?"

She laughed. "No, dummy; this is a spare key to my apartment." Now the stare savoured of shock and incredulity. "I'll be going to America for a week, starting tomorrow! Well, a week and change; time differences and such. Anyway. Point is, I need someone to watch the house while I'm away."

He could see where this was going.

"I'd love to have my mom come and keep an eye on things, but she lives too far away; you though, are across the hall. You don't have to do too much, just come by once a day and open up the windows and whatnot. That's all. Pick up my mail, too, if I have any."

"That may be the most normal thing you've ever asked of me, I'm impressed." There was death as well as the eternal void in her eyes. He had to smile. "I don't mind doing it."

"Great! From now on, you shall be known as the gatekeeper; key keeper…whatever, you get it." He nodded, mighty amused. "Huh; I never thought this would go over so well, so I have time to spare…takes me out of my schedule to be honest."

"Do you want me to say no, take up some of your time?"

"Mmmm, like you care; but no, that's fine."

"Then if you're done ogling at me, you can go now."

She gaped, offended and redder than ever! "I, wh, never did I, when, uh-…" She was producing more sound than words, so she decided to stop, before she had no face left to save. Turning around fuming, she marched to the door. "I didn't ogle at you; I just stared a little when you opened the door and can you blame me? Look at yourself." She deposited the key on his table, shaking her head, but the blush wouldn't be shaken away. "Have fun with the rest of your work out."

He would now.

.

.

It was the fourth day of Tokio's trip to America and he was sitting alone in front of her curved screen; he had gone to air the apartment a little late today, because he too was held up at work. So, it was around ten he managed to return home; around eleven he had finished with his shower and dinner; around ten after eleven he unlocked the door to her house.

It was weird walking in and not finding her there the first time; and without her, the whole house felt empty. He was told he had quite the presence by many people, but he never thought such a small person could have just the same, with only half his height and intimidation value; it felt a little lifeless, too. Something was missing from his daily life as well and at first, he thought it was peace and quiet…but when the third day rolled around, there was too much of it. It was the exact opposite that felt lacking after all, for he actually caught himself hoping something happened and she'd come back earlier.

He hadn't realised when or how, but these two months she knew him, she had wormed her way into his routine and now he couldn't effectively separate her from it! Her absence was much less appreciated than he had originally thought it'd be.

In a fit of boredom, he turned on the tv. She had the knack of always leaving a usb device on, so he hoped she had something decent to watch, while he waited the house to be properly aerated. Hmm, maybe he could have a snack or two, she always kept something good in her cupboards.

He stood from that perfect spot on the couch and headed for her kitchen with purpose, leaving the tv open at some channel until he decided to switch it to usb function. But that's when he heard it. He had to make a double take to the hall that led to the bedroom and the entrance! But there was no one coming from there…was it just his imagination? Finally, his brain connected the dots and he looked at the screen.

Sure enough, there was Tokio on a beige couch, sitting opposite another young woman, this one obviously American, smiling and talking in English. He craned his neck and saw the programme said LIVE on the upper corner. Ah, that's right; it was morning in New York right now; she was on a morning show for an interview.

He shook his head; he was such an idiot. Finding what he wanted, aka the barbeque flavoured chips – with true barbeque flavour, as it wrote on the front – he settled back on the couch. He didn't feel like changing the channel though.

 _Meow,_ he heard and then felt something against his leg. "Ah, hello there," he said at the kitten that was rubbing its back on his leg "you're here again?"

He knew Tokio had no cat, but this little thing had found itself on her balcony – on the fifth floor – two days ago. He hadn't had the heart to drive it away. Instead, he googled what kittens of that age need to eat and bought it some.

Boom, she became a resident. She mainly stayed outside, but when Saitou came to open up the windows, she always snuck inside to ear herself some affection. He wasn't big on offering that though, so all the kitty got was a couple of rough pets, and leniency as she rubbed herself against some leg or hand of his.

"Let's watch Tokio on the tv. Says here it's live." He turned up the volume and opened the bag.

It was the journalist's turn to speak: "So, what does twitter ask, Tokio?"

There was a message that ran across the bottom of the screen, saying: ask your questions notthatromanticallyinclinedauthor on twitter right now and she'll answer! Just for today!

She chuckled. "Many ridiculous things;" she turned to directly at the camera, displeased "yes, they are real; those, too. No, I've never eaten a taco in my entire life. I speak five languages, other than Japanese. They are: Korean, Chinese Mandarin and Cantonese, English, obviously, French and German."

"That's a lot of languages!"

"My parents wanted me to enter the diplomatic force when I was younger," she dismissed it as if it was normal. Then she stopped and took a deep breath. "Alright, people, I'll say this once and please don't mention it again: I can't tell you anything about my neighbour, alright? You know he's tall, be happy."

Every hair on Saitou's body stood straight. Oh god, not again; not on national television.

"Oooh, are they asking you about the mysterious neighbour?"

 _Et tu, Brutus_ , her eyes told the interviewer. "Yes," it was clipped "and I can't say anything about him. He doesn't want me to, it's a matter of privacy."

"Oh, come on, just one thing, one little thing," the woman pushed and he was really starting to think she'd fold, the way Tokio averted her eyes and looked for a way out.

"I can't, sorry."

"Not even what he told you to make you so unwilling to talk?"

"Look, I really can't; I gave my word." She sighed. "If you want to ask anything else, you're most welcome." She took a look at her phone again. "Oh, come on twitter! Don't be such assholes, ask something else."

An idea was born in his mind then. He took out his own phone and started typing, all the while glancing at the tv. He pressed send and waited. He watched as Tokio took pause while looking at her phone three moments later; she must have opened the message and she was now reading. A look of surprise, amusement and a smothered chuckle later, she stopped reading, trying to calm herself but failing, colour rising with each moment.

Saitou smirked.

"Tokio?"

"It's nothing, um, an interesting, ahem, ask that I can't possibly say on air. So, like I said, anything else anyone would like to know?" An ask came that made her beam! "Usually, it takes three to four months for me to write a book; sometimes less; others, more. This once, my book is already finished, we are just going back and forth with my editor as well as my legal advisor and it'll take a while."

"Is there trouble?"

He pressed send again. He waited.

"Ah, no, just some legalities." She saw it and this once did laugh on air! The interviewer became curious and tried to look who was sending what, but Tokio quickly replied and shook her head. "Sorry, it won't happen again."

 _Toll neighbour said: You dare say anything, you'll never see your katana again._

 _Loony bin said: Not the katana; I give._

 _Toll neighbour said: You look too red by the way, deep breaths._

 _Loony bin said: Damn, stop watching!_

 _Toll neighbour said: Can't; too bored for anything else. And Hijikata told me to tell you you're trustworthy, what's up with that?_

 _Loony bin said: Never you mind but looooool, say thank you._

 _Toll neighbour said: Also, you have a cat now. Hope you don't have allergies._

"I don't have cat allergies," she actually answered out loud.

"Me neither," said the woman "though I am a dog person."

She was about to panic, but realised quickly it was an innocent enough thing to say out of context so she recovered easily. "I am a dog person, too, though I do love cats. In fact, most animals! Let's take a quick poll: dog, cat or both person?"

He sent nothing else after that; he didn't need to. His ego was stroked adequately. To see her flustered and laughing on tv so many miles away all because of him, was very satisfying. He decided to make a habit out of it. It took away some of the loneliness, too.

"Guys, I gave you the option of both, why isn't that the only answer!?" Tokio exclaimed near the end of the show and the hostess burst out into laughing.

.

.

.

"You can't arrest me! I have rights! And you have no proof!"

Okita looked at Saitou with a gobsmacked expression. "Look, detective Saitou, I'm doing the impossible: arresting him." He clipped the handcuffs on.

Saitou appeared to be emotional. "And you do it so well."

"I know, I'm shocked, too to be honest."

But the man didn't want to hear it! "Are you deaf!? I have rights!"

Saitou scoffed. "So did the three women you killed, but I don't see you too broken up about it," he sneered while Okita pushed the man inside the police vehicle.

"Where's your proof, huh?"

Okita snorted. "If you think we came all the way out to the goddamn Kansai international airport, on an artificial spit of land, to arrest you without proof, you must be dumber than we thought."

"And we didn't think highly of you on the first place," Saitou supplemented perfectly.

"Show me your proof, assholes!"

"Heard that, detective Saitou? He swore at an officer of the law."

"Unacceptable."

"So rude, too…!"

"That's why you won't be seeing any of our "proof" until the time for your trial comes. And if you're thinking that friend of yours up in Evidence will help, think again."

When Saitou spoke of that, all colour drained from his face; he stopped resisting and allowed Okita to shut the door in his face without further protest. As if all life left him, he became docile. Saitou nodded to Okita and a smirk took over both people's faces.

"Maybe you can use that money of yours to buy a private cell," Okita taunted "one without roommates; Kyoto's prison is infested with Yakuza and they don't take kindly to women-killers."

He never thought it possible, but more colour left the man's face.

"Oh, come on, I was saving that as a surprise."

"Oops, sorry detective Saitou. Won't say anything else."

"Damn right you won't; leave something for the stand."

A uniform came after they signalled and he drove the apprehended suspect away; that's when they both exhaled in relief. "Thank god your man had an eye on him and told us he was getting ready to skip."

"Thank god you tagged him as a flight risk and we knew to come here," Okita said right back, a haunted look on both their faces. "If he had managed to leave Japan, I couldn't have lived with myself. Three women…in five days…"

"Me, too…" Saitou gave him an approving pat on his back. "We made it and that's all that matters."

"Yeah, it is. Go us, yay." Some mirth returned. "Let's go back to book hi-"

"Hajime? Souji-san? Is that you?"

A voice he hadn't heard in person for over a week, came from somewhere behind him; two heads snapped in its direction and two faces coloured with surprise. "Tokio-chan!" But it was Okita who gave in first and ran to her. "You're back in Japan, hey! Long time no see, how are you?"

"Souji-san, it's been a while!" They respectfully bowed to one another while Saitou approached at his leisure. "I just landed, only now picked up my luggage." She showed her pink suitcase to drive the point home.

"Welcome back!"

"If it isn't the local celebrity…finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

"Hajime, hello; _nice to see you, too_."

"You're late; it's been a week and a half."

She rolled her eyes, "some things took longer, I wasn't keeping tabs on everything. But I am back now…"

"I was about to put it up for auction or something…"

"Now you're just overreacting."

Finally, a ghost of a smile appeared. "Yes; I do have a cat to think of after all."

"Ah, the cat," Okita was in the know "it's the most adorable kitty ever! She had all these black and white spots, it's the cutest."

"Where did the cat come from though?"

"She just appeared on your balcony one day and I didn't have the heart to chase it away."

" _You_? Amazing…"

Saitou glared at her. "I still put up with you, don't I?"

"Not the same," she snapped as she smacked him.

"You're right; all the cat does is be cuddly and rub against my leg."

"Don't compare me to a four-legged furball of cuteness, it isn't fair!"

"Wow, I can see what you meant," Okita commented impressed by the complete misinterpretation of the mood by Tokio, not getting even a hint of innuendo, while what Saitou said could easily be taken another way. He instantly remembered a conversation they had three weeks ago.

"About what?" she asked, eager to be involved.

Saitou smirked; he knew just what to say to galvanise her. "Don't be too nosy, it isn't attractive."

And he did. "Don't tell me what is and isn't attractive, I couldn't care any less, okay!?" the tall man immediately laughed and she started hitting him all over again, finally catching on that he did it on purpose.

"Did I miss something?" Okita wondered.

"It was something a male interviewer snapped at me when I sat a certain way— _but I was wearing pants so who cares about your opinion, you pig_!"

She said it as if the man was there to hear her and both men had to smile or smirk at one another. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Tokio-chan, but we have to go. There's this…" the words died on his lips and a thought was born in his mind. "You know what? Our shift it already finished and the only reason we're here is because we managed to close the case, so why don't you two head back together and I'll go back to the precinct, book the guy?"

Saitou turned to him surprised. "You don't have to go-,"

"Don't worry about it; only one of us is needed and since both of you are heading the same way, it's no inconvenience. And Tokio-chan gets a free ride home, too, yes?"

"Yes! Tokio-chan is all for this plan!" She actually raised her hand as if she was in class. "Tokio-chan would love a good meal right about now, too."

Saitou considered. "There are a couple of places we can go on our way home if you don't mind ramen or soba, but it'll take an hour to get there."

"Anything sounds perfect right about now, haven't eaten for hours!"

"Just don't embarrass me; I eat there regularly."

She slapped his arm. "Ass! How could I possibly embarrass you, not hold the chopsticks properly?"

"You're creative, I'm sure you'd find a way…"

"I won't squander my creativity on something as mundane as that, detective."

He rolled his eyes. "Bye Souji and thanks; I'll owe you one."

"Damn right you will; bye now."

"Bu-bye!" And they all went their separate ways. "Oh, can we stop at a patisserie on the way? I have had such a craving for chocolate mousse, but it felt like they don't make it the same way in the US, I need a local one."

"Sure, but we're gonna stop at a mini market, too, I'm all out of cigarettes."

"Smoking kills…"

"So do guns, but I keep some of those, too."

"But you don't use them on yourself."

"I'm tempted to use it on you on occasion though."

"Still such an asshole…!"

"An asshole that's gonna treat you to lunch, so be nicer."

"Aw, no, don't get me wrong," she grabbed his arm with both of her hands and squeezed. "I missed your assholeness over there; everyone was acting way too familiar but extremely nice and I felt uncomfortable. Especially the men, brrr."

"They were probably hitting on you, but you didn't get it."

"Eh, those who did it too obviously I did get;" she was sour "no thank you."

As they went further and further away, Okita could no longer hear their conversation, but he could still see them clear as day. And the way Saitou had taken the suitcase off of her hands and carried it with his left hand while allowing Tokio to cling on his right, appeared intimate. Their banter was definitely innocent but flirtatious; and the words they spoke "our way home" and "don't embarrass me" or even "I missed you" being admitted so openly…Souji smiled at their retreating picture.

Maybe his friend's love life wasn't as horrible as he had feared. He took out his smart phone then and opened the camera. This needed a second opinion and who better to judge than his fiancé? Instead of a picture though, he decided to take a video. He tried to follow them a little, even from afar, to make sure he got a good amount of interaction. Once he felt it was satisfactory, he turned it off.

"Is that someone popular?"

"I don't know, maybe; that guy is filming them."

"Do you think-?"

"Hey! That's my best friend and I'm getting blackmail material," Souji snapped the two girls huddled together that were about to take out their own phones "and he's a detective. Dare film him, it's considered a felony."

Both girls blanched; without a second thought they turned around and left. Okita breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Not a felony, an actual full-blown crime coz Saitou would have killed me if that made it online."

He got into his car and drove off in a second!

* * *

 **A/N** : Hope you had fun sweethearts! See you in the next one. As always reviews are appreciated. Love you a bunch,

FAI out~!


	3. My famous(?) new neighbour, Part three

**A/N** :Hello peeps! I'm back at it again! New chapter in this random fic, but surprisingly not last for this particular story; when I realised what I wanted to write, it needed another ten thousand words and well, it was a little bit impossible. But next one is definitely the last one; this one is the third instalment. Hope you enjoy beautiful people. To be honest, I farted this out in a day, it was a very productive day yesterday, so excuse all the grammatical errors or misspellings. I literally had no time to proof read this.

 **Facts** : **Ahiru** means **duck** ; Hiru, what Tokio calls her cat, is a bastardisation of that word. Yes, she's calling her kitty Duck. She's quirky enough to do that.

 **Title** : My famous(?) new neighbour. **  
** **Genre** : Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe** : Neighbours, modernday

* * *

He wasn't familiar with their elevator. He barely used it; he saved it for the offices he'd visit on the thirteenth floor in his line of duty – mainly when he'd interrogate those who thought were untouchable – or the times he was escorting someone who didn't want to use the stairs. But tonight, as he came home from work much, much later than he was supposed to, after running what felt like three miles in order to apprehend a fleeing suspect, an exhausting interrogation and no results produced, he had no strength left to go up the five flights of stairs to his apartment.

It didn't help any that Tokio returned home the same time as him and spotted the dark circles under his eyes, the slouch in his stance. She always walked up the stairs with him, telling him about her day or asking him about his, those few times he happened to catch her outside. - She did rarely go outside, it was disconcerting. Did she spend most of her time inside? was she a shut-in in the making? Then again, it hasn't been a month she came back from the US… -

No matter, the woman always put in the effort to make small talk and keep him a little company; he decided to do the same. Not that she'd allow him to do otherwise, but this once he folded and went to the elevator door all by himself than her reluctantly trailing up behind him. What really sealed the deal for him though, was one thing: curiosity. She donned a very modern short dress while wearing actual makeup on. It felt so out of place, he had to look at her twice to truly register that yes, this was Tokio.

What had she been up to? It was two and a half in the morning…

"Honestly, Hajime, you work too much."

His eyes slid to her, as they both waited for their lift to arrive. "Why did you assume I came back from work?"

"Because you actually decided to take the elevator; and you look haggard; and your tie is gone; and I can see your gun."

He rolled his eyes just in time to see the light appearing behind the door and they knew from the soft sound it was here. He opened it but went in after her.

"That's one mystery down. Where were _you_?"

"Out; friend called, complained, I gave in. Hadn't seen the group in a while, too come think of it, makes sense to complain. But we had fun! We went to a nice café first and then had a lovely dinner at a nice Italian place Rin-chan discovered. Then we went for a drink but "just the one" became one too many, so…I came back now."

She giggled as she exited. "I believe they were also hoping men would recognise me and come hit on us easier, but that didn't pan out."

So, a girls' night out.

"Just because you're slightly famous doesn't mean you or any of your friends are suddenly more attractive."

"Oh my God," she managed between smothered laughs "you are such an asshole…! You're lucky you banned me from tweeting about you," she warned.

Still, she was entertained by his behaviour, she couldn't lie. She had forgotten what it felt like to be contested and antagonised. Either due to her parents, when she was younger, or because of her fame now, people wouldn't say no to her; or deny her anything. Some didn't even speak their minds anymore if they felt it would contradict hers, it was so boring. No wonder she barely left her house these days.

Her closest friends and family didn't put up with her shit, but they too were busy, so how often could she see them? It was times like these she both hated and loved working from home. There was no way to meet new people, but then again, you didn't have to impress anyone. Double edged sword.

"I had no idea you had such high standards, Hajime," she teased, although she knew she was lying. She had seen Yaso; she was an extremely high standard. "Is that why you are still alone all those months later?"

He smirked. "I simply mentioned fame doesn't add to one's attractiveness…unless you're actively _looking_ for an imbecile."

She chuckled. "I've had enough of those, truth be told, no more."

"Is that why you're, let me think, a year" he emphasised "all by yourself?"

Colour came to her cheeks. "I have been concentrating on my work these past two years; I just didn't bother finding someone new once Oojiro left me."

"He left you, huh?" he commented amused; her half glare was fuel for his fire. "What did you do?"

She sighed, annoyed. "He said we were getting too serious and wanted out; I assured him I wasn't looking for anything even remotely like that at the time; he countered with the fact we'd been together for two years;" he gave her his are-you-kidding-me look but she pressed on unhindered "I told him I was just like him, casual but loyal—we saw each other once a week at best, we're busy people." A pause. "And that was when he went off the rails!"

Her hands flew up chest high, as if countering an accusation. " _But this is the time people get serious_ , he said, _the two-year mark_ ; so what, I say? _Why don't you wanna get serious_ , he asks? I don't have the time for it; _we could live in together_ , he says; but I don't wanna. _Well, I do_ , he snaps." He liked how she did the different voices. "Oojiro, you didn't want us getring serious, why are you asking to live in with me? _It's your parents, isn't it? They don't like me, they never liked me_. **Boy,** the fuck?"

She shrugged, shaking her head. "After that we drifted apart because, apparently, I was frivolous and only passed my time with him, _my bourgeois upbringing too evident in my treatment of him_ , as he texted me a month after that."

He didn't know if he had to laugh or question everything he knew about her. "Why would you be with a man like that?" Laughter won out in the end, coupled with the surreal day he lived through at the precinct. "You look like a smart woman; two years though…"

"He was less contradictive when we started dating," she said defensively "made more sense in general. And for me to say that…!"

"Bad choices, huh?"

They both turned right and started walking. "We are all entitled to them…! But it wasn't all bad; we had good moments. He was very dotting in fact. He had this habit of always bringing me food when he came over." She considered. "And the sex was good."

 _Too much information_ , said his face; _don't be a child_ , said hers. Still, she shrugged. "That was a long time ago; I think I'm more comfortable being alone than I ever was in a relationship. At least I like me for me and whatever makes no sense is my fault alone."

"That's…sad, even for me."

Her eyes were scolding. "Even for you? You got married younger than I am now, and you don't look like the guy to get swept up by emotions so I bet you knew Yaso for a long time before you popped the question. You are the very definition of "family man", my entire existence must be sad to you."

Something in her matter of fact tone, the conviction in her voice, angered him; no, it wasn't anger per se, it was disappointment…deflation maybe? She sounded like not only did she believe he looked down on her, but she had accepted it. That didn't fit with his image of her so far; something inside him kicked. Purposefully, he walked in front of her and blocked her way.

"Tokio, there's nothing in the world that would ever link _you_ and _sad_ in my mind for more than a minute."

The way he was staring at her felt too close and personal; she could sense he was being honest with her, despite all his previous teasing, so she sobered up accordingly. "I know what it is to be private, I am too; I am of a traditional mindset but not archaic. And I respect your choice to be alone."

A pause. And then "I mean, I know you; wouldn't want to torture anyone."

She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes; just as she was about to commend him "you had to spoil the moment, didn't you?"

"The moment?"

"Yes, the moment; we just shared a moment. It was profound and heartfelt but you had to ruin it…!"

He chuckled. "I didn't know; inform me next time, so I know when to hold back."

She pouted "just go home…" as she fiddled with her keys.

But he snorted. "Go home? You're standing in front of my door."

"What? No…! this is my door; yours is on the other end, see?"

His head snapped left and right, searching the door number and nametag; he was shocked to find she was right and he was left staring. "What the hell?"

"Ah," she sensed his problem "your house is on the right from the stairs but on the left from the elevator and it threw you off."

He just stood there, nearly offended. "Why would anyone do this?"

"That's the design, detective; you never take the elevator so you don't know. Good night,," she wished as she opened her door "sweet dreams."

Just as he'd turned around, headed for his apartment, her head appeared behind the door. "You never shared why you got divorced though."

"Go to sleep," he groaned.

"Aww, but there's still time!"

"I gotta be up at six."

"Well," she drawled "there's still… **some** time."

"Go to sleep, Tokio, or else."

"Else what?"

He looked back over his shoulder; he held her gaze for a long time before finally saying "you'll regret wearing a dress to a fight."

"That makes no sense from a threatening standpoint."

"Makes sense from mine," he commented as he walked away, door to his house opening and closing without ever looking back.

Puffing up her cheeks, she went back inside. "Sweet dreams to me, too, I guess!"

He didn't know about sweet dreams, but they'd definitely be _some_ thing tonight; maybe he'd been alone for too long or her dress was too tight but _shit_ , she looked really sexy in that thing. The colour was right – he loved that black and blue combination –; the length was right – not too long but not too short either –; even the cut was right! Cleavage deep but still tasteful; lace teasing in the right places; curves hugged closely—damn it, he needed the rest! And a sleep deprived mind was not the best companion for these situations…

Maybe Okita was right. Maybe be needed to start dating again. That would get his mind off of the damn neighbour.

.

.

"Are you watching me?"

"P-pardon?"

When Saitou had looked at his screen, the caller id wrote Loony Bin; that meant Tokio was calling him…just as he had pushed himself out of his office chair, picked up the jacket on its back, and headed for the door!

"Never mind." He was just about to leave work, too – late, again – and there she was, calling. "What do you need?"

"Need? And what happened to greeting people when they call you?"

"Whenever you call it's because you need something: help; a favour; attention."

"Hey! I resent that."

He sighed; she could be so stubborn. He decided to do what he set out to do and proceeded to leave the precinct, bottle of water in his hand, cigarette pack in the other. "What do you need Tokio?"

"Help," she said it too fast and too low.

He snorted; he knew it! "With what?"

"Are you home?"

He didn't like how she evaded the question. "Just got off from work—see ya, Harada," he saluted the man who bumped into him on purpose and they both exchanged a nod of the head.

"When are you coming home?"

"In fifteen minutes?"

"Great! Can you come by my house as soon as you come home?"

"I guess I can."

"Perfect; see you in fifteen minutes!"

He didn't even get to say goodbye, or properly hear hers, as she ended the call immediately. Huh. Whatever this was, it was weird. What was up with her? He was curious enough to do as she asked and didn't stop to renew his supply of smokes on the way back. He simply walked into his car, drove home in a straight line, and headed to her apartment instead of his. He knocked on the door.

No answer.

That was odd. He knocked again. "Hajime, is it you?" he heard her voice from somewhere inside. "Yeah," he shouted back at her. "Use your key to come in," she shouted in return and that must have been one of the oddest things ever. Blinking once, twice, he produced his keys, found hers and opened the door.

"Hey, Hiru," he saluted the cat that rubbed herself against his leg the moment he walked in "where's your mistress?"

"I'm up here!"

His eyes immediately snapped up to the direction her disembodied voice came from. Gently shutting the door behind him, he removed his shoes and walked inside. She said "up here" so his eyes went upwards to find her, after travelling the entire length of the living room and coming up empty, holed up in the attic right over the bathroom door. The small compartment door was open wide and a familiar head appeared in its depths.

Then his eyes travelled downwards and spotted the ladder that had fallen flat on the floor, making it impossible for her to reach it. So, she went up there in search of something, lost her means of getting down and ended up stranded in the attic. He wanted to laugh so badly! She was just like a cat: attention-seeking, cute and with a knack for getting to high places without being able to get down. A smirk formed on his face as he came to stand directly under her.

"Isn't this usually a job for the fire department?"

She coloured. "Save it; I got up here because I was looking for my good kimono and the ladder…somehow fell!"

"Somehow, huh? Didn't have anything to do with how you kicked off of it?"

She averted his eyes. "Maybe…look, as fun as it is to be taller than you for once, can you please prop it up again so I can get down? I've been stuck up here for two hours!"

He tried not to laugh too much, although it was very hard. "I'd love to, but your ladder's dead." Her horrification was too much to handle and he snorted away a laughter. "It broke in two, apparently, upon impact most probably. I'm afraid you're gonna have to jump."

"What!?" Her shriek was smothered by fear. "I can't jump—I'd already have if I could."

He shook his head, mighty amused. "Not on the floor, genius; on me, I'll catch you."

For some reason, she lost all colour to that statement. "No way," she stated "I'm not doing it. Don't you have a ladder, too?"

Why was she protesting? "It's too much of a hassle, this is faster. Just jump, I'll catch you."

"Nuh uh," she vehemently protested, shaking her head "not gonna happen. You'll drop me."

He was almost offended to that. "Tokio, I won't drop you; jump."

"I'm too heavy, you'll drop me; think of gravity and acceleration. Think of your back!"

Ah, so she was insecure. He shook his head, amusement resurfacing. "I won't drop you, my back will be fine; you're not that heavy." She kept shaking her head adamant. "I'm strong, alright? I won't drop you." She still didn't move. "I can carry a man two times my weight for an hour without going out of breath, you won't pose much of a problem."

That seemed to make her reconsider her decision; he extended his arms, ready to receive her. "I'm pretty strong actually," he continued, flaunting a little "some men at the precinct are jealous, I had the best scores."

She cracked a smile, shy but condoning. "So, come on; jump, neko-chan." The nickname earned a giggle. "Don't be like the rest of your species and run away alright?"

"Don't make me laugh damn it! I need to focus, I'm nervous."

"Jump or I'll come up there and push you down myself."

She seemed shocked. "You can do that? Without a ladder?"

"I'm an elf, remember? You're the hobbit." She conceded, defeated by her own tweet. "Now come on, I don't have all day."

She took a deep breath, resolute; she let her feet hang and calculated the distance. With a final sharp intake of breath, she pushed off! Her eyes were wide shut so she only felt the transition from free falling to her fall breaking smoothly. She dared crack one eye open to see Saitou's chest; as she raised her head, she saw his smirk causing both of her eyes to pop open.

"Told you I wouldn't drop you."

He didn't put her down though; for some reason he kept holding on to her with that damn smirk plastered on his face, making her blush for some reason she didn't even recognise. She didn't want to fold under this peculiar pressure though, so she mirrored his expression. "All those weights paid off, huh?"

He jolted her; she felt like she was actually thrown in the air a little! Then he caught her again and after a second of staring her down, he gently put her on the floor. "You bet." She was heavier than average, sure, but what kind of special forces-trained man could not lift twice as that? He still savoured her surprised, panicked, and then relieved expression, as it turned into that universal look of disapproval only a woman could show so naturally. "You need a new ladder, too."

"Ugh, yes…"

She looked at the mess it made—it broke half the bedroom's door as it fell and dented the frame. She sighed. This needed fixing; but it hasn't even been half a year since she had to bring people in here! She was so disappointed in everything…except Saitou. But when her head snapped at him, to thank him, she saw he was already heading for the exit.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

"Home," he stressed "I just came back from work. I need food and a bath—in that exact order."

She shook her head exasperated. "I can't just let you go like that after all you did for me."

"Let me be and we call it even."

"No, no, that's unacceptable." When she actually reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him he had to stare. "How about you go home and have a nice long bath while I'll be cooking you a proper dinner here, yes?"

"…Tokio, it wasn't that big of a deal. You don't have to."

She shrugged. "I want to."

He had to take a very long, good look at her then. He couldn't wrap his mind around how this peculiar creature, leaving next door to him, could be so caring, down-to-earth yet ethereal at the same time; she was cooking for him but she got stuck in attics; she was the most awkward person he had ever met and yet, she had a way with words, at least when they were on paper. He didn't know what God he had angered or pleased to throw her in his life like this, but he felt a tiny bit grateful, amidst all the regret and tiredness.

That was when he made a grand decision.

"Suit yourself," was all he said. He put on his shoes and reached inside his pocket. He fiddled with his keys, counting them and finally, separating one from the fold. "This is yours," he tossed her one; she was about to be offended, thinking it was the one she gave him, but upon closer inspection, the key had his apartment number engraved on it "I'll be too tired to actually come here, so grab whatever you need and come cook at my place."

Realisation hit her gradually…but dawned all the same: he was welcoming her in his home, for the first time. She wasn't going to barge in uninvited. For the first time in their entire acquaintance, he saw her smile the way she did now, sombre, understanding, appreciative. It was downplayed in comparison to her usual toothy grins, but all the more heartfelt. He could tell. So, he nodded respectfully and left. Before he had time to process what he had actually done.

Oh boy was he going to regret everything about this.

.

That could not be possible. It just couldn't. What were the actual odds, he had to wonder? For this to happen this particular night, in this particular bar, it was just unbelievable. And yet, it did.

He shook his head for the umpteenth time that hour, hand over his eyes, drink next to his elbow and the resident ashtray. He was sitting on a stool at the bar of one of his favourite more underground choices – for a cop in Kyoto at least – casually drinking while chatting with the bartender occasionally. Well, chatting was too strong; the man asked and he answered. They were acquaintances actually. Saitou had basically exonerated him when he'd found out who had really committed the murder he had been arrested for; seeing the man had never even attempted a plea deal with the public prosecutor, knowing he was innocent, he was released as soon as the other one was arrested.

After that, being not just the bartender but also owner of said bar, he had given Saitou the license to come and drink for free for the rest of his life. No matter what, no matter when or why, if he showed up, it was on the house. Did he have friends with him? Their drinks were on the house, too. He was quite understandably grateful.

So, Saitou, being the reasonable but proud man that he was, never came here with company; him getting free drinks was fine, but anything else was too much. He did when he wanted to have a drink all by himself, gather his thoughts. Or when he was feeling too bad about something. Maybe have a quick one before going home…yet tonight was different.

For this night was the first night he had come here with the express goal of not going home alone. After that little freak out at the elevator, he had forced himself to start _looking_ , at the very least, if not succeeding with the first try. He wanted to be alone, too because, well, Okita was already engaged and most of his friends were married; like he used to be.

So, he put on a really nice shirt, one he hadn't worn for over a year, his a-little-tighter-than-usual pants that Yaso always said complimented his physique, and went out. It was still hot outside so he didn't bother with a coat, but he did bring a nice matching jacket, just in case. His hair – in need of a serious trim – were naturally hanging back, without the need of gel or water. All in all, he looked good and he knew it. And when he'd said he wouldn't be going home alone, he meant it.

So why did he have to run into Tokio damn it?

And she wouldn't leave him alone, too! She kept buying him drinks and making it a big deal, just for the fun of it. He wanted to kill her! She wasn't even alone, she was with two female friends.

How did he always get caught up in these situations?

"This is the fourth one," the bartender commented as he prepared yet another drink identical to his, only to serve it to someone else "maybe you **should** go talk to her." He shook his head no. "I don't get you. You said you wanted to pick up a girl; she's a girl. A really, truly, very sexy girl." Saitou's eyebrow twitched. "Look at those tits man, just one of them's size of my fist."

" _I get it_ ," he bit out and the "shut up" was implied "her looks aren't the problem. The fact I'm her neighbour is."

"Oh."

"She's not buying me drinks because she's into me; she's doing it because she thinks it's incredibly funny to see me somewhere other than home."

The bartender laughed, his greying long ponytail dancing with him. "Then maybe go thank her coz since she's been buying you drinks, I've noticed at least four more women looking at you differently."

"Heh, looks like playing hard to get isn't effective only on men."

"It's human nature pal." The drink was finished. "Do you want it or should I give it to that guy who's been drooling for the past minute?"

Saitou chugged the remainder of his bourbon mixed with Baileys down, took a final drag from his cigarette and cracked his neck. "No, I'll take it. Go tell her if she wants to talk, she comes to me once her friends leave."

"Got it, boss."

He took a sip from the new drink just as he lighted the new smoke and he could see how the light left the eyes of the man drooling over it. Heh, it was the little things that brought pleasure after all.

It took three hours for her and her friends to break it off; those three hours she had bought him an additional two drinks which he both actually consumed. If he didn't know her better, he'd say she was trying to get him drunk. But he knew she was just being her weird self and when she stood from her table, waving her friends away, he noticed how her eyes turned to him, face a wide smile – and surprisingly without swaying, even after three cocktails –. Then she walked the small distance from her table to the bar and climbed on the stool next to him, high heels giving her a relative hard time.

He shook his head sighing.

"Hello there, neighbour!" He grunted. "I see you finally left work at a reasonable time and came to have some fun. "

"I see you and your thighs finally decided to join me."

"Hajime!"

"What? It's the first thing I noticed." She was both scandalised and laughing, hence the smack on his shoulder. But it was weak and more of a greeting than anything. "Ain't my fault it's so short…" But his unapologetic shrug made her glare comically. "So, how come you're here? Went men-shopping with the rest of your friends?"

"Hajime," she drawled "don't call it that…but yes, we went out to get Kou-chan a new boyfriend. The previous one sort of left her without so much as a goodbye and it did something to her confidence. So, we put on our sexy dresses and started looking for a place to go. Found this on our third try, came in…and there _you_ were," the grin on her lips was wider now "all dressed up and relaxed, nursing a drink and playing with a cigarette, looking cool on the counter."

He rolled his eyes at her drama. "Maybe it is you who went out woman-shopping, coming here all alone, without any of your already _taken_ friends to drag you down…"

His eyes turned challenging, that rare amber hue almost threatening. "And if I was?"

She laughed. "Good for you! You've been divorced long enough, time to get back in the game." A moment. "Oh no…oh no! If you came here to—and I kept buying you drinks…I'm so sorry, oh god, I must have messed it up." She put her face in her hands and made dying cat noises. "I'm so sorry…I can still go if-"

"Go where? Didn't your ride just leave?" She went perfectly still, peaking between her fingers. "I'm not upset, if that's what you're implying…I did come here to maybe get to meet someone but, to be honest, I don't know how to do it. I watched Okita do it a couple of times, before Ria, but _I_ never did. Not to mention, none actually caught my eye."

That captured her interest. "How did you snag yourself a Yaso then?"

He leaned in. "Keep a secret?" She nodded furiously. "We were dating since I was fifteen." Her surprise was almost tangible. "We met at judo when I was ten; she was twelve." Her eyes widened even more if possible, question and impression all over her face. "She kicked my ass at a demonstration for sensei. I fell in love."

Her laugh was good natured and amused. "Then I turned thirteen and grew taller than all the other kids; I was a natural at judo, too so I easily became the top student; she was jealous and wouldn't talk to me." Queue her awws. "Couple years later I asked her out and she said yes." He shrugged. "We'd been together since and till we divorced."

"Oh man, I bet you were viewed as the "romantic one" at the precinct, marrying the high school sweetheart."

He snorted. "No one who knows me would ever call me romantic, ever." A sigh then. How did he end up talking about his ex-wife to the one person he came out here to not think about? "I was viewed as the one who had his life together though" he missed that feeling "getting married to the woman he was with for eight years…"

Maybe it was the drink that made him keep her by his side when he didn't even want to look at her while wearing that dress; or talk about his ex. It was the drink that made him pathetic. Yes, _let's blame the alcohol, it helps my self-esteem_.

"…why did you break up then, if you don't mind my asking? You sound pretty much perfect."

 _Sound_ ; exactly. That's when his eyes and body shifted away from her, started staring at his drink, moving the opaque liquid around in circles.

"I didn't put in the effort when I should have; she tried to show me she cared in all the wrong ways. One thing led to another. I knew I should have never asked her to marry me, but I did anyway. Both because I'm traditional, as you have already noticed **and** I'd be the first in my department to get married so young." He chuckled self-depreciatingly. "I should have listened to Hijikata; it's not who does it first, but who does it better."

"You just…drifted apart?"

"She'd become someone I didn't recognise; I became someone she couldn't stand. And when I realised, it was already too late. I confronted her about it and, as expected, we had an epic fight; then she blurted out she cheated on me."

Tokio's sharp intake of breath was too loud. " _Had been cheating_ on me actually, with some guy; the guy wasn't important. She only did it coz she wanted to hurt me." He shook his head. "She was crying and begging me to start over for days: on the phone, in person…I just couldn't. Said didn't want our marriage to end, but the trust was gone." He shrugged. "How do you come back from that?"

"You don't," Tokio agreed and he could tell she was completely on his side "cheating is a deal breaker, especially if there aren't any kids to think of…if it's just you and me and you can't even commit to that, how am I supposed to trust you with something even more important in the future?"

"Exactly."

She took some time before speaking again, giving him space and herself time to digest everything. Then, she put her hand on his shoulder, looking as sympathetic as she felt. "I am sorry to hear you've been through that."

He tried to shrug her off, but she was smart; her hand slid down to his and squeezed his arm. "But I am glad you shared it with me. It must have been hard."

"Not after I realised it was more my ethics and pride that were hurt rather than my feelings. Which is why I said: I didn't put in the effort when I should have. We're both to blame." He smirked. "Mostly her, though, according to the judge."

She had to laugh at the way he said that and he was surprised to find…he wasn't really lying. He wasn't sad; he was over it. That stinging sensation when admitting what happened remained, but that much was to be expected. There was no yearning for things to go back to what they were though, no nostalgia, melancholy, nothing.

They were just facts.

He stopped and stared at Tokio then, laughing with her head thrown back then her body reverberate with the last echoes of her mirth as she levelled a good smile at him; he came to realise…she soothed him. Her crazy personality relaxed him; her exuberance was met by his indignation; her bouts of doing nothing and scolding him about his schedule brought a sense of normalcy in his life, by making him realise how hectic it really was.

She was, quite frankly, his exact opposite; and that was what did it. Thinking about how to avoid, appease, thank her, made him stop thinking about Yaso; despite the fact she was her favourite author, he never stopped to think about his ex since he met her. If he was being honest, he liked that; and he liked her. She was fun to be around.

Huh; he came here to avoid her, or, more accurately, banish certain thoughts about her, and ended up coming to this conclusion. Just how?

Well, it could be the alcohol. No, it was definitely the alcohol, not any bothersome attachments he was starting to form, not like they were coming closer. At least, he blamed the alcohol, because it was convenient while admitting anything else – like how he suddenly felt very protective of Tokio when the bartender mentioned her breasts; or that stir in his stomach when she stood up fully and he could see what she was wearing properly; how he allowed his eyes to linger in certain areas – would be too much of a hassle.

Oh well; he'd still have to drive her home and he could reflect all he wanted then. The less time he spent with her in silence the better, but he could bet an arm and a leg she'd be out cold in one-minute flat after she stepped in the car. When it was too quiet with her, his eyes would try to find her involuntarily, too and, as already established, the last thing he wanted was looking at her for too long.

But in a weird twist of fate, he did get to bring a girl home; a sleeping, familiar girl, who snored loudly when she was tired yet somehow still remained adorable, even as she drooled on his jacket when he carried her up the stairs.

He chuckled. To think she never woke up even after four flights of stairs…what a heavy sleeper. It was almost admirable.

.

There was a knock on her door.

"Give me a second please," she said before she took off her headphones and turned to the door. She waited for a second and heard it again. Ok, so she wasn't imagining things. She leaned into their microphone, hastily grabbing them for a second. "Someone came, please give me a moment."

She stood from the couch facing the TV and went to answer the call, looking at the watch on her laptop screen, that rested on the coffee table. It was a strange time of day for anyone to be there, knocking; a little early for those who worked, a little late for those who didn't. Cautious, she looked through the eye whole, only to be surprised! There was Saitou, long before any late evening hour, standing there, dressed in one of his everyday suits.

"Hello Hajime! How are you?"

He blinked once. Was this the same person? Her hair was nicely done, she had make-up on while she actually wore a pressed shirt! In fact, her entire outfit was too formal: black, low-rise dress pants, white short sleeved shirt with a high collar that had a cute black bow at the front matched with a nice pair of pumps. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, I'm having an interview! Couldn't go live in my pjs, right?"

"An interview?" He immediately looked inside yet saw no one. "With whom?"

"Some people from France; I was very flattered. It was very last minute, too but since technology allows it, we decided there was no need to spend a fortune on plane tickets; we're having it through the internet! They told their fans, their fans told mine and now it's turning into a Q & A live stream." She chuckled. "It's pretty cool actually, it's streaming right now."

He was impressed. "Good for you."

She giggled. "Duck doesn't like all the wires she can't scratch."

He nodded amused but had to change the subjest. "Is this gonna drag for more than half an hour?"

"Um, no; we've already been at it for two hours so I don't think so. Why?"

He sighed. "I need a favour. Can you come over as soon as you're finished?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, see you then. And thanks."

Just as he made to leave, she asked "have you eaten anything?"

He shook his head. "Just came back from work."

"Early, too, by the way, how come?"

"You'll see when you come over," he answered as he rolled his eyes annoyed, but not at her, she could tell, so she didn't bother with the details just yet.

"Okay. But don't eat till I get there, go take a bath or something; I haven't eaten anything, too."

He finally headed for his own door, shaking his head. "Eat properly, idiot," he snapped as he fiddled with his keys. She waved him off and closed her own door, heading back to the couch and interview. She put the headphones back on and smiled at the camera she had attached on the laptop screen as she said "I'm back!". She saw the two men who were asking the questions smile back wider and more cunning.

Her eyes became small, curious, question obvious.

They looked at one another first and then, Louis, who was asking the fans' questions, simpering, asked: "was that man we saw at the background your mysterious neighbour?"

Fuck; she forgot to turn the camera away. Her face drew a blank, trying to put on her best poker face, but it was a lost cause, seeing the two men laugh heartily. She could even feel her cheeks grow bright red, her expressionless face did nothing to help!

"No…"

"It definitely was; _it matches the one from the picture—how many people that are so tall live around her_ , titotheboss just posted," the interviewer informed.

She grew purple! "It isn't important, next question, please."

"Are you trying to avoid the topic?"

"Yes," she admitted, half laughing, half crying "let's talk about anything else."

"Alright, we'll spare you; you look very uncomfortable."

"Though, one viewer just posted anonymously that that's definitely your neighbour, she could recognise that annoying scowl of his anywhere, from any distance."

A snort of laughter escaped way too loud from the author who was convinced Yaso was the anonymous poster, aiming to make his life miserable any way she could. Oh man, how enjoyably awkward. "Same person says, to you Tokio, don't get attached or he'll trample on your heart. Wow! That must be one bitter ex-girlfriend, eh?"

Try ex-wife.

"Oh, another anonymous just posted, and I quote: _leave Tokio-chan alone to form her own opinions, she-devil; don't judge from your own impossibly warped standards_."

Was that—could that be Okita? Tokio tried not to laugh out loud but the impulse was too much.

"Oooh, the woman posted again: _stay in your fucking lane, keychain-chan_."

Louis could not believe what he was reading while his co-host, Oscar, was laughing unreserved. "There's more, there's more; the other poster just said: _better a keychain that's practical and useful than a bitter hag who only exists to bring other people down_. Oooooooh!"

"Ooooooh burn!"

"Oh my god, please stop with these posts," Tokio pleaded through tears of trying to hold the laughter back.

"Wait, wait, there's more: _keep your trap shut if you don't want to be doxxed, keychain-chan._ "

A pause.

"That, that got serious. Oh, wait, there's a response from a hijihijitou: _if you two know each other and this isn't a random internet feud, should he get doxxed, he could press charges against you; if evidence of you actually doing it is found you're facing jail time_." Another pause then during which Tokio truly appreciated Hijikata's profound love for her work and love of order as well. "Let this be a lesson to everyone: don't doxx people, people; it ain't alright," Louis concluded after a long moment.

"Well, no one posted after hijihijitou so it's safe to say they listened…or know where the other lives and they beat up each other."

"Does this conclude our interview fellas?"

It did. They exchanged pleasantries, thanking each other for their time, and the connection was severed. She exhaled as she took off her headset. Oooooh boy. "How am I ever going to explain this to Hajime?"

Turns out, she didn't have to. The time it took her to undress, order take-out – there was no way she was going to deliver those news without food in her hands – redress and go to his apartment **with** said take-out, Okita had already explained everything to him; every little thing.

Thankfully, he wasn't upset. Mildly inconvenienced at best.

"What's the favour?" she asked then.

"My youngest cousin is fifteen; he's in high school. Teacher is a fan of your books and since you're the one author everyone in his class has read, they decided to write a book report on you." He stopped to gather his thoughts. "He found out I know you." A sigh. "He's asked me to ask you to help him with his home…work. Tokio, are you alright?"

There were tears in her eyes; her smile was watery. "I…I feel so blessed…they are writing book reports about my works…this is…such a milestone…"

Deeming her sentimentality justified, he felt this was a very pure moment to witness, it caused him to smile. "He just called he got off the bus, so wipe your tears away, writer-san; he's a fan, too. Wouldn't want him to see you cry, would you?"

"R, right," she said with purpose, frantically rubbing at her eyes to get the moisture away "I'm cool, I'm chill. Wait, he's coming over now!? I didn't order enough food for all of us!"

"I must have something in the fridge; whip up something quick, he'll love it. Your cooking is decent, it'll be fine."

She made a face. "Decent, Hajime?"

"…you haven't poisoned me yet…"

She rolled her eyes as a good right slap connected on his arm. It was on the floppy side of the arm but damn it, he was all muscle. It didn't produce that satisfying sound it always did…! "I make food art," she stated then, still incensed "not decent meals."

"Whatever; just be prepared, he's bound to come at any moment."

She made some pork curry with hot steaming rice; it was delicious, according to his cousin, whose report was about her second book. All had read the first, yet only half of them had read the second. So, the class split into two: second book and third book reports. Yoshiro was in the first group and had just finished it. He had loved it.

By the time the cousin had left, Saitou was treated to every spoiler imaginable. "You know, the second book sounds really interesting, too," he admitted once the kid had left.

Tokio, who was chilling on his couch, head tilted back, craned her neck to look at him with a smirk. "Does it?"

"Yeah…it sounds it carried on well after the first." He came to sit next to her; first, he picked up her feet that were in his seat. "Interesting developments, too." Then he sat down, letting her feet fall in his lap. "And it didn't get too convoluted for a casual reader to follow."

"Why thank you."

"You said you have the entire series back at your apartment, right? Can I borrow a copy?"

Her smirk didn't last long; it transformed into a brilliant smile that reached her ears. "I'd be delighted; in fact, I'd love to hear some criticism from you on my work."

A raised eyebrow later, he snorted. "I don't think so; I'm scathing."

"No, please do; and after you reach book number five, _if_ you reach book number five, I challenge you to find out what time period it is and who the protagonist's lord is only by context information."

The glimmer of challenge lit up. "You're on."

.

.

"Hey Hajime," she spoke through a yawn "what do you need?" She looked at her watch. It was pretty late for him to be up and about, almost three in the morning. Even she was about to go to sleep.

So, it was no exaggeration to think she made the whole thing up.

Saitou Hajime, in all his glory, reached out and hit her upside the head with a copy of her own book! It was the third instalment; she recognised it despite the lack of light at her threshold because the moment he said he wanted to read her books, she had special covers made just for him. Thin sheets of paper that went over the hard cover, with both the regular and an alternate title on it, just to mess with him. This one had a wasteland for a landscape, the broken blade of a katana stuck in the barren ground while the rest of it, along with the hilt, lay on the ground next to it.

She chuckled. "I guess you reached _that_ point, huh?"

"You're despicable," was all he said.

"…you've four more books to go through; and one that will be published in a month and change. Don't go calling me that so soon."

The horror that marred his face was priceless; she broke out laughing as he stomped off.

The very next day, he came by her house just as he had gotten off work.

"Hey there neighbour; what is it going to be today?"

"You owe me lunch." He didn't ask or suggest; simply stated it. "And I'm very hungry."

He produced the fourth copy, with its unique cover, as he walked inside, easily kicking off his shoes in that familiar spot by now. Hiru came to rub herself in his feet, per usual, and all was right with the world. He headed straight for her couch, the one in front of the TV and sat at that perfect spot, even if he was obviously going to read and not watch anything.

She shook her head. "Should I cook something?"

"Obviously." If he could see her face right now, he would have loved the impassiveness. "Make it spicy."

"I was thinking about shrimp."

"Sounds good; get to it. I have three chapters to go through."

" _Have_?" She was almost offended. Reading was not a chore!

But his answer calmed her down. "How do you think I managed to read two books in a week? I schedule. And for today, it's get to chapter ten. I'm on three. The rest when I go home, after my bath."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm a busy man; if I don't do this, I never get around to finishing anything but _I really have to know what's going to happen._ " He scoffed. "If that asshole gets away with it again, I swear I'll throw the book at you."

There was something so genuinely rewarding in watching a person read her books; their reactions were real and unforced. First-hand account of it was precious, too. She could always guess which way the readers would go, which character they'd lean towards, but she could never be sure. This was very helpful.

Shaking her head, she headed to the kitchen to find the right appliances and foodstuff. "So, you never did tell me, Hajime; how did your cousin's report go?"

"They'll be getting their results back tomorrow; said he'd text me."

"Alright! Let's cook. Shrimp with curry noodles sounds good?"

"Perfect; just make it spicy."

She rolled her eyes. "I heard you the first time."

.

The headlines of every paper in town, the internet and some radio stations as well as some local news channels, two days later, where something like this:

Writer storms high school in Kyoto Prefecture, Kamigyou-ku, after a student she was interviewed by failed to achieve top marks in his book report about one of her own books.

Then, they continued with:

 _Teachers know better than the author what the author was trying to say, I guess,_ one of her tweets about the incident. Discussion about fundamentalism, conservatism and an inherently biased scope of the educators came to the surface. Despite the light-hearted approach it received, legitimate concerns were raised during formal and informal discord on the web. The author, Takagi Tokio herself, called the system rigid and archaic.

Statements from the student were never published, simply because they were never made. The comical proportions this took at Yoshirou's school were enough to make Hajime advise him to make no comment to anyone that could be from the press, as well as convience his friends into silence. Plus, he was a minor, so that was good.

"And if you dare tell anyone you know her because of me, I'll plant you deep enough to find water," he had threatened; it worked.

At least all the media coverage from the incident at school deflated the attention he had started getting because of Yaso's posts. He wasn't 100% sure it was her at first but then she called him, begging him not to change his mind about the special signed copy and she was so very sorry for putting him in the eye of the storm again, so it was decided.

He hadn't really cared. Tokio said would do it anyway. He wasn't vengeful enough to actively ruin that for her.

But the fact his tag stopped trending again was all that mattered; from mysterious to _toll_ – as in tall, but misspelled on purpose – neighbour, slowly it died down. Instead, a meme was born: _teachers know better than_blank specialists space_I guess_ gained traction in a heartbeat, seeing it affected real world matters and apparently too many youngsters or young adults could relate to that. In fact, it cased such a stir, political talks took place out of nowhere.

Huh. Who would have thought? But he was simply a spectator, sitting there drinking his coffee, reading the last book, shaking his head. And then he stopped. He went back to read the last couple of lines.

But he read it right the first time…a vein popped on his temple. Goddamn it "TOKIO!"

A head appeared behind the bathroom door, steam coming out; her hair was glued to her head, a curious expression on her face. "Yes?"

"Why would Sakura go to that temple? Why did no one talk her out of it? Why isn't Kotetsu stopping her!?"

She laughed out loud, getting back to her bath, door closing behind her. " _Shut up and read, detective._ "

"But it makes no sense!"

" _Read_ ," she drawled in a sing-song voice and the water started flowing again. " _And if you can answer me what time period we are and who's Rintarou's lord, I will give you the very first copy of the series to read before it reaches the greater public: mine_."

"…bribes don't work on me, neko-chan."

" _I made an offer and that offer stands_ ," he heard her shout.

Except, they totally did right now; he would kill to be able to have exclusive knowledge on the finale. Not just so he could torment Hijikata with it, but also because now he was invested in the series.

Fuck it, he would say it once she came out. He was confident in his knowledge of history. He could do this.

"It's Tokugawa Ieyasu he's serving isn't it? The first shogun of the Tokugawa bloodline."

She jumped two feet high! "Damn it Hajime, don't creep up on me when I've just come out of the shower! I'm wearing nothing but a towel," no need to remind him "I feel vulnerable."

He did, too, for some reason; he did battle with himself not to comment then, in fear he'd say something that would make her hold a grudge for the next two hours but he needed his answer now. "Am I right, though?"

A pause; she looked at him calmly and for a long time. And then, there was a smile. "Yes, you are."

Heh, "I knew it."

"Well done;" she actually clapped twice "not many people picked up on that."

"That's why historians love your books so much, isn't it? You show the era without hammering it in." She nodded excited; the towel started slipping a little. He needed to look away. "And you've included many Easter eggs for history buffs."

"Yes, oh my god; I was so honoured to receive their award; and the swords; and the plaque. They're great people, too!"

"I bet…" Why was the knowledge she was naked underneath the towel more teasing than her walking to her door in her underwear two months ago? The towel covered more of her than half of the things she wears! "Know what, go put some clothes on; September is almost over, you'll catch a cold."

"Hahaha, you care about my health, that's cute."

Right, her health; sure.

* * *

 **A/N** : Third chapter is up, fourth and final chapter will come...at some point. I love you all, take care. Best wishes to all of you wonderful people.

FAI out~!


	4. My famous(?) new neighbour, Final part

**A/N** : Hello and I love you all. How have you been? I know, don't tell. I had to write this to get it out of the way, I just had to finish it. So, final chapter, enjoy. By the way, I thought I ended it at a nice place, but if any of you want an epilogue, please say so.

 **Title** : My famous(?) new neighbour. **  
** **Genre** : Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe** : Neighbours, modernday

* * *

"I finished it."

It, referred to her knew book; she had received the first copy five days ago, to check the end product and if it was to her liking. For the first time, they had gotten it right from the get go: hard cover, 583 pages. Said cover depicted the black figure of a samurai, standing with his hand on his scabbard looking to the side, as if something had just come to an end. Pink sakura petals surrounded him as well as every part of the cover, front and back, while they were made into a relief. Even the title – The Romantic Samurai: the final duty – was a different texture, almost carved into the thick paper. The point where the samurai's figure ended, that signified the ground, was all black, while the rest was a greyish hue, all splashed by the pink of the petals.

Deeming it satisfactory, she gave them the ok to put it to mass production and then, what else, hand it over to her neighbour whom he'd promised an early release to.

Despite his workload and the fact it was a pretty big book, he still read it in record time; four days for all that? It meant more than a hundred pages per session, making each session longer than an hour. With his crazy schedule, that was too much! He undoubtedly missed sleep over this. And that was verified this night, when Saitou showed up at her doorstep, around four in the morning, with said book in his hands, looking both tired yet restless.

"You do know you didn't have to read it before the week was over, right?"

"Shut up, it sucked me in; and I just finished it."

She laughed weakly, head shaking at the same time. "I am very happy it did but think of your health." She stepped aside and he walked in. "But the fact you're here tells me you want to talk about it?"

"Yes." He didn't really have to respond, she could see it clearly in the purpose in his step or the finality with which he sat on her couch. "Otherwise something will slip at work and Hijikata is going to skewer me for spoiling him."

She was already making the preparations for tea and coffee – since he actually didn't like the taste of tea – and some snacks, as she snorted. "Don't tell him you read the book or he'll threaten you into giving it to him, too."

"True."

A moment passed, as she prepared everything. In a sign of respect and just to build up anticipation, she didn't ask anything until she reached him, beverages and food on the tray touching her table.

"So, what do you think?" She finally asked as she settled in a seat next to him. Folding her legs underneath her, she took the cup of hot steaming tea – in September no less, what's wrong with her – and looked at him suggestively. "Did it live up to the expectations?"

"Yeah, it did," he said as if she was crazy for even asking, taking the coffee mug in his hands "I was particularly happy about the way it ended."

She burst out laughing. "Oh my god, I knew it!" She kept laughing. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?"

"Sakura is your favourite character, isn't she?" He looked taken aback; she only chuckled some more. "I knew it…"

He pursed his lips. "Is that bad?"

"No, not at all; she's not as popular as other characters, that's all. I mean, most like her, she's no one's favourite though; usually it's Rintarou, being the protagonist and all, or Kyoushirou or Kotetsu."

"Kyoushirou is a delightful bastard, indeed."

"Right? He's a very entertaining villain, people respond favourably to him! He's always in the top three; once he reached number one, too." A pause. "Honda makes it to top five frequently, too."

Saitou looked at her disturbed. " _Why_?" She shrugged. "He's disgusting."

"I know…I think they like his despicableness."

And just like that, the night passed with coffee and tea and good company. When Saitou grew too tired to hold up his mug, she gently took it out of his hands, leaving it on her table. She brought a blanket and a pillow from the guesthouse; she propped the second behind his head, in a comfortable angle while she covered him. He was wearing house clothes, so he'd need to wake up earlier than usual to have a shower and change. She decided to set the alarm clock for half past six—barely two hours of sleep and he'd still have to hassle, but anything less would have been unrealistic, even for him.

"Traitor," she jokingly accused Hiru, when she saw her cuddling up on the guest's feet.

Then she put her phone next to his mug, close to his hand, and decided to prepare a new batch of coffee, for him to make in the morning with the simple push of a button. She wrote him a little note that said just that, coupled with "breakfast in the fridge", and after checking that breakfast was indeed there – she had made it for herself four hours go, but he'd need it more than her – she too went to sleep, a faint smile on her lips.

 _Oh_!

Springing out of bed, she ran to the living room, as silently as possible, finding her pen and paper again; she then proceeded to scribble the second note that said:

 _PS You can shower here, I'm a heavy sleeper. Just use the towels on the right (when you look at it from the sink). Take them with you, I'll wash them tomorrow._

Deeming her penmanship readable – she too was quite tired and could barely keep her eyes open – she dragged her feet back to her bed. She was out in seconds.

Next morning, she woke up around ten; early, all things considered. Yawning, she made her way to the living room, where she found things almost exactly as she left them, with one key difference: the blanket was nicely folded, pillow on top of it. There were two coffee mugs in the sink, she later found, and none on the coffee table. Her phone was lying there with a post-it note attached; she read.

 _Thanks for everything; I'll return your towels. Breakfast was not sweet enough though._

She chuckled, still unable to open both of her eyes. She had cooked it for herself after all, it made sense it would taste a little different…but to think he had a sweet tooth. How cute.

.

.

"You really look like shit man," Okita commented for the hundredth time that day.

It was uncalled for, it didn't follow any string of rational thought and they had no conversation about it. He just randomly decided to say it again. And it must have been the tenth day at a row he kept doing that.

Alright, he got it; he worked too much. but these things needed to be done and the cases wouldn't magically solve themselves. The Shinomori rookie had a knack for it, but he tended to get too sucked in. Not in a personal way, just…invested. He couldn't let go of things. He reminded him of himself, but even he wasn't to this extent. It would hurt more than help him, but it wasn't his place to say.

No matter, the kid shouldn't handle more than one case at a time for his own good and the rest were already up to their elbows in files. He was a fast closer, faster than the rest without sacrificing the quality of his work. It made sense to take on more responsibilities…but that left him tired. Really tired. He hadn't pulled an all-nighter for more than a year and he had forgotten what it felt like. Well, now he did! His back and neck, too.

That still didn't mean Okita had to comment on it every ten goddamn minutes. He hadn't cared at first, but now it was starting to aggravate him.

"Who would have thought you'd sleep in the office after such a long time?"

"And what's your point?" He couldn't hold his tongue back anymore, he just reacted. "You think I can't work as well as any other day?"

"No, but I do think you can't _function_ as well as any other day…you dropped a spoon in the rice you were already eating with chopsticks; you must be on your eleventh coffee. You are fuelled purely by caffeine at this point…"

He snorted. "Did Tokio put you up to this?"

Okita's eyes became smaller, interest evident. "Say what?"

"She's been calling me on my cell whenever twelve hours pass and she hasn't seen or heard from me once. And she's been talking my ear off about getting proper sleep and giving up on the coffee." His chin jutted out to the container with said rice, half eaten. "She's been sending me food, too."

Okita just sat there looking at him…after the moment passed, he burst out laughing! Saitou was not amused by his joy, or the way he had to hold on to his stomach not to trip. "A, are you serious?"

"Yeah, she's driving me crazy." A pause. "I do appreciate the concern but it gets too much."

"Dude, are…are you dating?"

Saitou gave him a look. "What?"

The shorter man shook his head, disbelieving. "Are you two together?"

"I'd have told you, idiot."

"Then _why_?"

His question was spoken through laughter but the question was very much straightforward. And it was a fair question…one he too had posed himself, that day he woke up on her couch by her alarm clock, wrapped in a blanket, to find a cat and two notes that explained the situation to him, two weeks ago. She had actually taken the time to brew him a new batch of coffee – or at least prepare it for him – and even gave up on her breakfast.

Why was she being so considerate?

"It's her nature," he gave his friend the same answer he himself had come to. Actually, he had come to plenty of conclusions, but that one was the one with the less complications and implications and chose that one. "And we haven't had the most normal of acquaintances."

"True," Okita receded "but it still looks a little bit too involved. Have you…I don't know, talked with her about it?"

"I don't ask things I don't want to know the answers to; and I don't care how her mind works, so long it makes me food that tastes well."

Okita's laugh was honest but short-lived. "Well, seeing how you burn the candle both ways, it does make sense for her to notice and maybe worry a little, but, as a friend and as a man, I'm telling you: she cares too much. Not that that's a bad thing. But address that shit. You never know what road that'll lead to…!"

Saitou waved him off; Okita clicked his tongue.

"Address that shit."

Saitou rolled his eyes; Okita shook his head.

"Or don't. What do I know? I've just been friends with you for over a decade and have seen you both married and divorced; and I don't ever recall Yaso being that involved with your schedule, health or _food_." A pause; a smirk. "To think she sends you meals…"

"Two proper meals per day," he stated, mimicking her attitude "anything less than that and apparently, I'll keel over."

A side glance. "Well, she's not wrong…go home, Saitou. Rest. We can survive a day without you."

"I'll think about it."

"And address that shit."

"Say that one more time."

"You'll do what? Glare me to death? You can barely stand."

He still received a smack upside the head, though Saitou took his advice and went home that night after all.

It wasn't early, and it wasn't pleasant. He had to drive and he didn't even know how he made it back to his building, but he saw he had arrived and he was relieved. He wouldn't have, if it weren't for the rookie, actually; just as Nagakura and Harada were chiding him for the exact same reason, when they met in the lunch room, Shinomori walked in, black eyes landing on the taller man. When Saitou turned to greet him, the usually stoic new recruit looked surprised.

Then he did the most unexpected thing; he bowed. Deeply. "You work hard, Hajime-san," was all he'd said and simply turned around and walked out.

That was when he knew: he needed to rest. Even the overenthusiastic newbie thought it too much. Hopefully, Shinomori wouldn't follow his example because it was two thirty-five and he could barely see the elevator button.

.

Tokio was lying on the couch, looking at her phone; she always enjoyed reading fanfics of her works and whenever _she just couldn't go_ to sleep, she'd be on the app, reading till tired. She had her own account, too, wrote a couple herself, and checked in to see how they were going. Ironically, her own non-canon ships were not popular at all, but at the very least, whoever read her story told her she wrote very much like the author.

The fact no one had figured it out yet amused her greatly.

And tonight, was a night like that, hence her lying on her stomach, on the couch, on her phone, trying to pass the time. She had just finished typing a passionate review on a fellow writer when she heard sounds at the door; she went perfectly still, neck craning, to hear and see the door better. There were more sounds then and she was sure she heard jiggling of keys. She didn't sit up, but she did put her lights out, trying to discern if this was an emergency or not.

She turned her screen off and waited.

Then she heard it; that tiny, familiar snap and her door opened effortlessly. In walked, none other than, Saitou Hajime in all of his overworked glory.

She stared.

She watched him take off his shoes unceremoniously, not even using his hands; he threw the keys on the kitchen counter and, yeap, there goes the jacket, too, right on the chair, falling off because he didn't care to put it right. With as less movement as possible, he untangled himself from his clothes; first it was the tie, falling on the floor, followed by his shirt. Socks went off next and just as he was about to take off his pants, too, the phone rang. It was in his pocket.

He took it out and without a shred of hesitation he chucked it at the wall!

She remained on the couch, unmoving, astonished, watching the scene unfold. The phone didn't stop ringing and she heard him swear, but she also lost him from her field of vision as he disappeared behind her bedroom door. Then, even that shut violently and that was that.

She just stayed there, for a very big moment, but after it passed…she burst out laughing. Saitou was not only dead on his feet and agitated, but also confused again. Shaking her head, she turned on the lights and retrieved his cell phone. Just as she did, she watched it ring again. Without a second's thought, she put it on silent mode and let it ring itself out.

She couldn't help it though and glanced at the screen; it read "Okita". She bit her lip. Should she answer it? Would it be too inappropriate? But her dilemma was solved on its own, when it stopped ringing. Well, that was—it started ringing again.

Damn it! Now it read Harada. Then it was Nagakura, then a name she hadn't heard before but was sure was from the precinct and then it was Okita all over again. And the cycle continued. Ten minutes later, she took a deep breath. When Okita called for the third time, she answered.

"Hello, Souji-kun; how are you? I know, it's weird for me to answer but consider this: Saitou's phone fell out of his pocket in the hallway. I rang his bell when I heard it ring, but he won't wake up. So, I took it in and I'll give it to him tomorrow morning."

"I see. well, have another go; Hijikata is trying to contact him."

Their superior; shit. "I will."

She followed the clothes strewn on the floor to get to her door. She walked inside carefully and saw him sprawled all over the bed, facedown, sleeping heavily. She considered. She could try to wake him…or lie some more. She decided to nudge him a little, but he didn't even feel it. Curious, she nudged him a little harder and other than a sound pretty close to complaining in his sleep, nothing else happened.

Interesting.

Immediately she called Okita back to deliver the news. He said thanks and hanged up. Three seconds later, the caller ID read Hijikata.

Fuck.

"Good morning, Hijikata-san."

"So, it **is** you who has his phone."

She chuckled. "It is. Pleasure to hear your voice, captain." If he winced, she missed it. "What can I do for you?"

"I want to talk to Saitou; put him on."

"That I can't do; he sleeps heavily."

"I know for a fact Saitou would never drop his phone so you either put him on right now or I start asking why he's with you at this time of night."

"Please, do!" She could see his intentions and she would not be bullied. "You think I lied? You are correct; he didn't lose it. He threw it at the wall the moment he heard it ring." She allowed him a moment to process it. "He waltzed right into my house, started undressing and swore at his phone at the same time; he fell asleep in a matter of seconds. I tried waking him up when Souji-kun told me you needed him, but he won't budge."

"Why is he at your house?"

"He got the doors mixed up; he's too tired."

"How does one-?"

"He took the elevator."

"That makes no sense."

"But that's how it is."

"And how did he walk into your house?"

She loved how he was interrogating her over the phone. "He has the key."

"Why would he have a key to your house?"

"I gave it to him."

"Why?"

"I went to America this summer, remember? I needed someone to take care of the house."

"Whatever. Put him on the phone."

"I can't; didn't you hear me? He won't wake; he was so tired he mixed up the doors."

"Put him on the phone."

She sighed. "So, you don't believe me?" He must have nodded his answer because he rushed to say "no" a little curtly. "Fine; give me a minute. Alright? See you in a bit."

She knew what she had to do: a documentary.

She left his phone on her nightstand, still on silent. Then, she retrieved hers and left. She turned on the camera, video mode, and started descending the stairs. Once she reached the fourth floor, she pressed record and started whispering:

 _Here, we can see the stairs that lead to the fifth floor; large, sturdy steps, going upwards in a rectangle; as we go further up, one can easily see the curve coming to an opening, leading us to our destination. On our immediate left, we can see a door: this is Hajime's door. it reads 501, his apartment number. Opposite it, is mine, 502. But, on our right, one can see the elevator, meaning, whoever lives in 501 would have to take a right to reach his destination. But the resident of 501 rarely takes the elevator._

 _Now, as we get closer and closer to door 502, we can undoubtedly see the number; ah yes, there it is. Doorbell says, Takagi Tokio. And here, if we go inside, we can distinctly see_ _ **not**_ _Hajime's house. But, gasp, are those his clothes on the floor? I wonder where they'll lead us if we follow them._

 _A bedroom door; and there's a bed; and oh my god, can it be, that is Hajime Saitou sleeping in it. My bed. How odd. Here is his cell phone, on my night stand. And here, we can see the invader up close. I shall poke him…no reaction. How about a little harder? Hmm, a grunt; a little harder? No, nothing seems to stir him. And here we can finally see the narrator, next to our exhibit. Do you believe me now, Hijikata-san?_

She pressed stop and let the video-file autosave as she lay next to Saitou for a moment. She watched him. He must have been too tired, if he didn't even feel her weight hitting the bed. How…irresponsible of him. No one should neglect their health like this. Resisting the desire to smack him, she stood and found the video file. She chose the "share" option and after looking through his contacts, she found Hijikata. She pressed send.

Five minutes later, it was her phone that rang. But she had foreseen it, already silent, and she went to the living room to answer an upbeat "yes?"

"I believe you."

"Perfect! Can I make my demands now?"

"Demands?"

"Yes. To start with, no one bothers him for at least ten hours."

"Reasonable."

"Then, you will give him two days off."

"That's _un_ reasonable."

"Two days off, captain; one to sleep and another to properly rest. I mean, do you really need to go back and see the video again? He couldn't even tell he wasn't in his home…"

"One day."

"Two, pretty please? And I'll give you a great piece of news no one knows about."

"…one day."

A sigh. "Fine. I'll throw in a special copy, just for you." Silence. "The contest I put up? You'll win a spot by default."

"You have a deal."

"Perfect! Thank yo-"

"What's the news? You didn't tell me."

"Oh right…! I am already working on the new book. It will be set in modern day Japan."

"…really?"

"Yeap!"

And the line was dead. Pfff, such an eloquent fellow. But since she got her way, there was only one thing left to do: turn off his phone completely and then grab a blanket from the closet. After that, sweet dreams to her.

"Traitor," she snapped when she saw Hiru shamelessly jump on the bed, on Saitou's side, having abandoned the couch she was so comfortable in with her till ten seconds ago. What was it with this cat that loved this man so much? He barely gave her any scratches. Oh well. "Nighty night both of you," she wished, though no one could hear or understand her and went to the couch to sleep.

When Saitou came to, something felt different. His bed was too soft, the sheets smelt something flowery. His sheets had never done that before, how odd. When he slowly opened his eyes, he found it easy, to his surprise. There was nothing trying to keep them closed, no crushing sense of exhaustion, no heaviness on his limbs. What was even weirder, he woke up relaxed, nothing jolted him from sleep.

The creeping feeling of forgetting something washed over him, but what was it? When his eyes were fully open, he stumbled out of bed and opened the door to the living room.

"Good morning Hajime!"

And there it was, the first sign of things having gone wrong: **he was not in his home**! No wonder everything felt different, it wasn't his bedroom; those weren't his sheets or his mattress. He had-…

"I mixed the doors up again, didn't I?" He was so disappointed in himself. He sounded the part, too, causing her to giggle.

"You did; but that's okay. You fell asleep in seconds! More like a coma, I couldn't wake you."

"Goddamn it, did I make you sleep on the couch?"

"I wasn't sleeping when you invaded, don't worry; other that giving me a mini heart attack when you came in, you didn't bother me."

"Shit." Embarrassed as he was he looked away…and his eyes fell on the window. The sun was high and the day bright. Too bright. Oh no; he had missed his shift! " _Shit._ " That one was said with despair. No wonder his eyes opened on their own, he overslept. Big time! He looked at his watch and it read ten thirty; the colour drained from his face immediately and—

"Hajime, breathe; don't panic just yet." Her voice brought his mind focus and he looked at her. "You don't have to go to work, Hijikata gave you the day off. He gave you both today and tomorrow actually, so chill."

"What?"

"Legit, you're in the clear."

"There's no way; Hijikata does not give people days off. Did you imagine it?"

She physically walked all the way to him, just to slap his arm. "No, you dimwit; I arranged it." The scepticism was palpable; she sighed. "Look, I don't want you thinking I nosed around your phone, but it kept ringing all the time. They called you twelve times! The thirteenth, I answered. It was Souji-kun actually…and I lied." She explained exactly what she'd said and why. "But Hijikata didn't buy it so he called himself; I answered. We talked…I told him the truth…and once he was convinced, he gave you two days off."

"Why not just the one?"

Her smile was coy; he stared. "…I might have bribed him into it.

He was not expecting to hear that.

"I promised him a special copy and I told him something about the book I'm thinking of writing next." She shrugged. "And he gave in."

"Wait, you requested the leave?" She nodded shyly. "Why?"

"Wh—you need to ask? You were exhausted! You didn't realise you came into the wrong apartment, you needed the time off." She shook her head, obviously indignant. "Don't neglect yourself. You're only human, after all. Killers won't catch themselves and you're good at it but if anything happens to you, then they'll definitely walk, right? Just," she heaved a dreadful sigh "don't be an idiot. Anyway, I'm cooking if you're hungry."

Her tone changed completely. It reverted back to her usual upbeat tone and the smile was there, wider than ever "you wanna go over to change and sleep some more? Just wait till I'm done and take your portion with you, I'll eat alone. They said they wouldn't bother you with work until midday, so don't you dare pick up a phone till then. Also, don't you dare go to work, I'll be watching you."

She winked and went back to her previous chore, cooking breakfast, with a skip in her step. Then Hiru rubbed herself between his calves, per usual, as the clock kept ticking away…leaving him dumbfounded in the middle of the hall. What the hell had happened? When did his life went off the rails and when did this tiny round person came to restore the balance? What was going on?

He must have been there a long time, because the kitty, now bigger than ever, meowed at him. He looked down to see her distressed; in an uncharacteristic move, he picked the cat up and walked to the living room, sitting exactly where he'd sat the first time he was ever in her home, when he'd fallen asleep with her in his lap; where he had slept two weeks ago. Where he had spent many evenings with a cup of coffee and her talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

He sat there, petting Hiru who blissfully played with his hand or turned this or that way for more pleasurable scratches. The more time that passed, the bigger the thoughts became in his head. He was not going to lie, he was emotional about this, in a positive light, too. No one had cared like that for a long time. It was intrusive, definitely, and a little left field, yes, but it felt nice, to know someone cared enough. Ever since he broke up with Yaso he didn't have-…

Wait.

As he replayed countless times of him fighting with his ex-wife about his schedule, he couldn't recall a single instance of this nature. Indeed, Yaso wasn't as meddling, she respected his privacy, she would never do something so forward. But was it that bad after all? Sure, he'd suffer once he went back; Hijikata would get back at him for two entire days off, but in the end, he got what he needed. And Tokio what she wanted.

Oh wow, Okita was right; Yaso was never this involved in his work life. He turned his head to the kitchen slowly, watching Tokio cook while humming a tune in another language he did not know. He looked at her for a long time.

Why was she so invested? And why did he not mind?

"Tokio," he decided to indulge "why are you doing this?"

"Hmmm?" She turned back to look at him for a second, tilting her ear to him. "Didn't hear you, speak up."

"I asked, why are you doing this?"

She shrugged, turning back to her pot. " _Someone_ had to. You needed it."

"I'm asking for _your_ reason, not mine."

That's when he saw her stop her hands and look down; he appreciated that she decided to put some real thought into it. A moment passed in silence. And then, she shrugged, a little awkward.

"I…care; that's just who I am. If I like someone enough, I don't need another reason."

 _I see_ , "thanks." So, he was right. He didn't know why, but he felt deflated. He leaned back on the couch, allowing the cat to escape his grip; she settled right next to him. "When will the food be ready?"

"T-ten minutes!"

"Okay, don't fret."

He didn't miss the sudden rush of anxiety that hit her, but he'd missed all the rest. How she froze the moment he had asked his question; how her eyes became as wide as saucers as she processed it. How she was experiencing an epiphany as she gave an excuse because the truth, it was too much for her to handle at the moment.

Because _shit;_ she was developing a major crush on him. But she was too old for crushes, she knew. So, basically, she was falling in love with her neighbour? _Shit_ was right; deep, too. She was setting herself up for an epic failure. Oh boy, time to supress more feelings. She went back to her pot and tried to make herself forget the last ten seconds ever happened. Maybe if she could avoid him, after his days off…that would work. Wait, no, she said no more thinking about it.

Right. _Right_ …!

So, she tried to enforce it. But when he left and went back to his apartment, for some reason it was all she could think about! What were the implications now? What did that mean for her? Should she tell him—no, that's stupid. Should she tell someone else? Should she ask for advice? Yes! that's what she should do. She picked up the phone immediately and dialled a most familiar number.

.

"Hajime, it's your first day off; what are you doing with that thing on your shoulder?"

She was almost indignant to see him with that huge bag as he was standing at his doorstep, thick strap on his shoulder. He was in a black tracksuit and sneakers so it didn't take a genius to figure out what he was going to do, but the ridiculousness was the same.

"I'm hitting the gym; haven't been in one for over a month, need the work out. I've been doing it from home mostly."

"I've been in a gym once…" she mused aloud, making him flick her forehead.

"Where are _you_ going is the real question?"

"Mum and dad's; haven't seen them in a week." He seemed surprised; she was not amused. "Contrary to your belief, I do go out; you just never see me come and go because you're always at work."

"Is that so?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, will you be back by dinner time?"

She considered. "Most possibly, if not certainly. I don't like to stay more than four consecutive hours," she had to explain to his obvious question. "Why d'you ask? Need anything?"

"I was thinking about treating you to dinner." Alarm bells went off in her head immediately. "Wouldn't have these two days off if it weren't for you, let's not be ungrateful."

That relaxed her a bit, but still, her heart beat a little fast there. "O, oh! That sounds great. How about that ramen stand we went when I came back?"

He had something fancier in mind but "sure, sounds about right."

"Alright! See you at six?"

It was twelve now. "Yes," six hours were enough to put his business in order "whoever's ready first knocks on the other's door."

She gave him a thumbs-up. "Sounds like a date."

He nodded; "want me to drop you off anywhere? I'm heading…Tokio are you alright?"

No, she was imploding. Why did she have to phrase it like that!? it was a good thing he didn't read more into it… "I'm fine." A deep breath. "And sure, if you can get me to the station, I need to take the train."

"Where do your parents live? Maybe I could drive you."

She laughed. "That would take you _way_ " she drawled for a long time "out of your destination."

He was doubtful. "Where do your parents live?"

"Suburbs, it's the famous" she air-quoted "Takagi mansion."

That was exactly when he too experienced an epiphany, looking at her like she was a different person. "The famous…you're from _that_ Takagi family?" She nodded, as if it was self-evident. "Really?"

"Yeah," she assured chuckling "didn't I tell you I was rich long before I wrote the books?"

"I never thought that meant the _tenth richest family_ in Japan."

"Tough," she teased.

He shook his head. "Such a typical spoiled rich girl: no car because she wants people driving her around, even if she can afford it. Brat."

Damn; just as she was about to consider him one of those people who were easily impressed by money and was about to think less of him, he says that. "Always, such an asshole…let's just go…"

Her estimation that trying to avoid him before the days off were over was nigh impossible was a good one; but she never thought they'd spend that much time together these two days.

After their dinner, he dropped her off home and he went out for a drink with Okita; next morning he overslept again and she had to go there to rouse him. (Although her mum had clearly told her what she needed to do – either tell him and hope for the best, or don't concern yourself with him until the fancy has passed – she did neither.) They had lunch together that day and a little later he went to the gym again. Then he came home and went by her place to watch a movie – relatively early; he did work the next day – and have some snacks.

Okay, damn; he needed to start working again.

But when he did, it felt like _he_ was the one avoiding **her**. Felt, but was not so in fact; still, it felt like it. He was rarely sighted once the two days were up – not as rare as before that she'd go a day without catching a glimpse – but it was due to his workload. Those two days off hurt him in another way, as it was to be expected according to Saitou, so he barely had any time to do anything. Work, food, sleep—his schedule the entire week. She'd started feeling a little depressed and the outside-of-home research for her new book wasn't due to start in another, so she couldn't do much other than wallow in self-pity and go visit friends and family.

She had even proposed they shared a cup of coffee for some catching up, but he declined, because of a difficult case.

And then, something even stranger happened.

"Hey there neighbour." She was leaving for a night out with the girls, he was just coming back from work. "Looking a bit tired…maybe you should go straight to bed."

"That's not what's bothering me right now;" his tone was clipped "in fact, I'm not tired at all."

"Then just sour?"

"Exactly."

"Okay, bad mood I see. Is it work-related?" He nodded, annoyed; she tried not to stare. "I see; won't pry then."

"Smart choice."

Oh wow, double the sass with half the tolerance, what was up? She gave him a look that he clearly noticed but pointedly ignored. She was concerned. She knew it wasn't her fault, but she felt like it was and felt guilty for something she shouldn't; knowing that, only ended up angering her.

"I'll leave you to it, then; have a nice night," _I guess_ …

He snorted. "I'm the one who should be saying that; aren't you going out? Have fun."

Alright, hold the fuck up. How can one person say something so innocuous and ordinary with so much contention in his voice? "I'll try," she replied dryly "you try some rest."

They exchanged looks; he was visibly upset with something, not her, but it seeped out in his attitude and their exchange. She was a little miffed but could generally live with it. He nodded curtly at her and so did she, slowly, in response. They parted ways with the atmosphere turning a little chilly, but she shook her head.

Well, it'd get better tomorrow…

Only it didn't.

He stared at her as she opened the elevator door; he was leaving for work. "Are you just coming in?"

"…yes."

She might have had a drink or two more than she had intended and was forced to spend the night at Kou-chan's. She never said that though because she didn't like his tone, not to mention his attitude: his eyebrows shot very high and his expression turned critical. "Where've you been?"

She _really_ didn't like the attitude. "Is this an interrogation?"

"No," he shrugged, supposedly uncaring "this just savours a little too much of a walk of shame."

"I dislike that term," she bit back "it implies something shameful happened. But that's usually not the case; neither it is now." She shrugged. "It was just a girls' night out anyway."

"Uh huh." His eyes scanned her from top to bottom, not buying it. "Have a nice _sleep_ , Tokio."

Implying she hadn't slept till now; she really wanted to slap that implication off his face. "Have a nice day at work, Hajime," she decided to say instead, as civilly as she could, biting her tongue.

In a worse mood than before, he descended the stairs; in a worse mood than yesterday night, she went inside.

.

.

There was a knock on her door late that day. Surprised – and a little hopeful – she went to answer it. Just as expected, it was Hajime. But he was in no better mood than this morning. If anything, he was even worse. He was almost glaring daggers at her, hands crossed across his chest. She could feel her hopes of making up evaporating.

"Hajime," she said evenly instead.

"Tokio." He handed her a folder. "I found this in my mail box. I think it belongs to you." She took it and studied it at the same time; when her eyes fell on its contents, they grew a margin, but he could tell she was waiting for this and he became even more suspicious. "Why would anyone mail you addresses and brands of private eyes?"

"For research," she replied distractedly, her concentration suddenly on the papers "I pulled some strings and my guy told me he could set me up, with as many as he'd list here." She flipped through the files quickly. She smiled. "Nice, more than ten different people; that's way more than I'd hoped. Not to mention he did this practically overnight!" She smirked. "The man has reaches, I have to thank him again."

"He sounds devoted; did you bribe him, too? Was it last night?"

"I didn't have to, silly; my name-…"

Only then did she realise this was a jab about last night and she stopped talking altogether, colour changing at an alarming rate.

Her conversational mood turned frigid in an instant. And that's when he knew he was in deep shit. She shut down completely, kept staring at the papers, in a valiant effort to control her temper and he started inwardly cursing himself for letting that goddamn, stupid line slip in his bitterness.

"Thank you for bringing these to me, Hajime." He has heard swear with less antipathy in her voice. "I appreciate the effort."

Then she took a deep bow and his blood froze. Whenever a person like her was being too formal, _you went and done something wrong, son_ , as his father always says. He opened his mouth to say something then, try and salvage it as best as he could, but the moment he sucked in the breath, her eyes became dangerous. _Try me_ , they said, obviously thinking he was going to be an asshole about things again and somehow it became impossible to form words, even proper sounds, in front of her.

He tried to speak a second time, but the air left his lungs unused _again_ , for her glare was too threatening. _I thought so_ , it communicated when he swallowed and after a moment, the door shut to his face.

Crap.

This is not how he wanted this particular encounter to go!

He was supposed to try and not-really-but-sort-of apologise to her about yesterday night and this morning. Instead, he really fucked it up. He had no idea why that slipped nor why he was so bitter but he sure as hell was. It was her business whatever she did in her spare time; even if she always had time to spare and, in all truth, he was supposed to be the way she spent the most of her free time. Oh, there it was, entitlement; why did he have to think like that? No wonder she got so upset, he'd be, too. And now he had to apologise for more things damn it.

He almost banged his head on the door out of sheer frustration but realised it would only cause "the glare" to be back and he couldn't deal with that right now, his work problems were more than enough. Instead he rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes shutting. He did recognise he would have to deal with her though; preferably fast. He dreaded to think what her opinion of him must be now…

But when he exhaled, he heard something he never had before; not from her anyhow and surely not because of him: sniffling. There was sniffling and a sudden draw of breath and he could hear her cry behind the door. Duck was meowing non-stop and yet, the crying only got louder. He could picture her even. Folded up on her couch, hugging her feet, her eyes dripping hurt and shame.

All because of him.

 _Alright, don't panic; you just have to fix this_. And it'll be fine…that one badgering thought that kept crossing his mind, _what if you can't fix it now_ , he decided to ignore. But what to do? He had to think this through—all other things he didn't, they didn't end up too well for him. Or her. Okay, whatever he came up with, standing in front of her door wouldn't help; he needed to go back to his apartment first and then he'd deal with it.

Despite his innards already tied into tight a knot by the time he got to open his door.

.

The doorbell rang. She jolted; her watch read ten. She considered. The only one it could be at this hour was Hajime, no doubt about it. Yet she didn't know if she wanted to answer this once. Although the tears had stopped an hour ago, the sting hadn't. She was still very much upset with and because of him. At the same time, for some incomprehensible reason, she didn't want to make things even worse, so she refrained from going because who knew what would come out of her mouth at this point.

On the other hand, if she didn't go that alone could make things worse.

She sighed. Fine, she'd go. She wasn't heartless. But he'd better be there to apologise or else. Visibly upset, she opened her door…to find an equally upset Hajime. He though, wasn't angry. No, he was looking like a doused cat, averting her eyes respectfully.

Huh. A good start.

"Hajime."

"Tokio."

"What can I do for you?"

He brought a bottle of sake at the forefront – that she realised he was holding all along but she never noticed because she was too busy staring at his face – and extended it towards her. "Wanna get drunk?"

He sounded cautious yet vulnerable; he shrugged as she kept studying him, face severe. And then, "sure," she said, shrugging herself, and grabbed the bottle out of his hands.

Then shut the door to his face.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, trying not to smirk. In another second, she opened the door again and stood to the side. "I guess you can come in, too."

Crestfallen at first, his expression transitioned to defeated resignation as he walked in. "I deserved that."

"Damn right you did." A breath she did not know was trapped in her chest was released. "Want any snacks?"

"Don't even ask, I'm starving."

Alright, this could work; he came over, he brought booze, he was remorseful. Steps in the right direction. "See that glass case? Bring out two sake cups from the set on the third shelf."

"These look expensive," the lacquer was flawless, the white pure; the small designs looked hand-painted "are you sure?"

She snorted. "I had them for over four years and this is the first time they are going to be used; I think it's fine."

"Suit yourself."

They sat down after ten minutes; she had prepared quite an untraditional tray of goodies, with whatever she found in her fridge. The important part was it looked delicious, so he didn't really care, nor did he dare to make his usual smartass comments, in fear he'd wear the platter as a hat.

She went the extra mile though and served the sake for both. The first two cups were consumed in absolute silence, and a little faster than custom, but the third loosened their tongues.

"I'm sorry," he finally said "it's been two very shitty days at work. This new case is…I hate cases like these. Most do, but these, they affect me. Other cases don't. And I know it's not an excuse, I just want you to know why I acted like such an asshole. I don't care what time you come back from your night out, or at least I shouldn't. I mean, I'm a cop, I'm used to asking questions. And when people don't answer they usually have something to hide. You obviously don't but, it's a mindset."

Well shit, he was oversharing. He had to stop. Why couldn't he just stop? She must think him an idiot! "Bottom mind is, I try not to let the work shit affect my personal life, but cases like these just…they seep into everything, until they get solved. I'm very sorry. I don't think of you like that at all, I'm truly sorry."

"…thank you. I appreciate that." A pause for drinking. "What case are you working on?"

"You don't wanna know."

"But I just asked."

"But if I tell you, you'll regret asking. Besides, I never talk about cases with anyone. Only those who can help solve it."

He refilled his cup.

"…but if it affects you that much, maybe you should share it with someone. Feels like you won't tell anyone anyway."

She discreetly pushed the tray closer to him, to show him he needed to eat, too.

"There's no need to make your week shitty, too. I have accepted this to be my reality, you haven't." He downed the rest of his sake, popping a cracker with cheese in his mouth. "You're better off, trust me. I wouldn't even tell Yaso, but she understood. It was for the best."

"Not eve—Hajime that…that is a very lonely way to live."

"It's better."

"No, it isn't. Not for you anyhow, if they way you're drinking right now is any indication. Fifth cup already…"

"These cases are just…I don't usually drink; I smoke. I only drink when they come around."

"Fine, I won't pry, no matter how difficult you make it." She sighed. "Let's change the subject."

"Right; what's your new book gonna be about?"

Her eyes shone with delight while her chest expanded! That was how he knew that night was going to go well after all. Thankfully, she wasn't one to hold a grudge and hopefully, this meant things went back to normal. If one considers normal to get blindly drunk in their neighbour's home when they knew for a fact they had work to do the next day.

But that apparently did not deter him one bit, as he kept drinking cup after cup, chasing it away with a snack. She too would join him, but only consumed a third comperatively, so she was in a far better shape. Yet, it was after the bottle emptied they comprehended they might have overdone it a little.

"Alright, no more alcohol for you. Or me; we need to rest." She was slightly tipsy but she could walk all by herself. He, remained to be seen. "Let's get you to bed."

"I'll just…crush on the couch…"

"No, you need to sleep properly; and you also need a bucket. This carpet is brand new."

"I'm not the throw-up drunk, don't worry. And I'll be fine, I swear…just let me sleep…"

"No, come on; up you go."

After a lot of struggling, she managed to get him into bed, have him lie down. She untied his tie and unbuttoned the cuffs and collar of his shirt. "What time do you usually wake up?"

"Six…"

"I'll set your alarm for half past five; gives you a chance to hit snooze once" she made sure the snooze activated the alarm clock a quarter of an hour later "and another fifteen minutes to properly wake up. I'll bring a clean suit over, so you don't have to come and go. Just make your own coffee. Okay?"

"Okay…"

"Very well; now I'm going to—what is it?"

He had grabbed her hand, stopping her exit. His eyes could barely open, but he tried it anyway, just for her. "You're…too nice to people. After how I treated you…I'd be mad at me for weeks."

She chuckled. "Well, you are you; I'm me. And I'm not all that nice to people."

A snort escaped him. "Yes, you are. And they'll take advantage of you for it. People are shit; I see it every day. People are scum…killing even…when they are so pure…who beats children to death anyway?"

Her heart stopped at that revelation.

"People…are scum. Don't be too nice to people."

Ah shit; the case involved children, was that it? Beaten children, too, how awful. She looked at him in another light and, although she couldn't say it didn't hurt or he had any right to talk to her like that, she felt she understood him a little bit more. "Not that I'll remember any of this in the morning," he went on "but why are you being so nice to me? If I were you, I'd be…very paranoid. Especially since you're so rich."

"I'm not nice to people; I'm nice to _my_ people and I consider you one of them."

"I'm an asshole; why am I considered your people?"

She took a deep breath, bracing herself. She didn't answer for a long moment. "Because I like you."

He put his hand on her head, as best as he could. "I like you, too; you're good…"

She chuckled. "No, silly, I mean…I like you. As in, romantically."

An eye popped open after a long time to look at her; she was unmistakably blushing but still looking at him. He tried to be as lucid as possible. "You're into me." She nodded. "And you tell me now that I can barely keep my eyes open because…?"

"You won't remember it in the morning, said so yourself." He was so delightfully offended, she wanted to take a picture. "If I didn't tell you, I'd explode; but if I told you and you didn't feel the same way, I'd positively _die_ of shame. This is the best of both worlds."

"Tch, coward."

"Hey!"

"Even if I do remember…tomorrow…I won't tell. Suffer…in your cowardice."

"HEY!"

"Man up; or, woman up. Whatever. You're…too good to hide…behind pretences and half-assed confessions. You want something? Go get it. If I don't like you, then…you're too good for me. Don't let anyone, ever…get you down."

"Or you could just tell me now…! Just saying."

"No."

"Why not!?"

"Don't be a coward."

She was scolding him with just her eyes, but he didn't fold under pressure. "Don't…be a coward…and thanks…g'night…"

He fell asleep. Typical.

She shook her head disappointed. What a prick! She had just confessed to him and he still had the gall to call her a coward. Granted, he was drunk, would probably not remember anything in the morning and he was basically incapacitated but come on! They were neighbours. If he didn't feel the same, it'd be super awkward.

She sighed. Time to have a big cup of tea, lots of water and go bring his suit over. At least she learnt one thing tonight: he did respect her. apparently, he thought highly of her in general, if he thought she was "too good to be hiding behind excuses". A residual smile accompanied her to her chores for the rest of the night and even after she drifted off on her couch, with Duck curled up on her feet, who just this once, didn't go suck up at her favourite guest.

When she woke up next morning, he was long gone. The clock read half past ten, made sense. She looked at her phone and saw there were three messages and two missed calls she slept through: one call and message from her mother; one call and message from Aoi-chan; and one text from Hajime. Purposefully, she read them in that order.

 _Mommy said: Hun, don't forget to get your kimono refitted, don't think I didn't notice you gained a few. And why don't you ever answer your phone?_

 _Ugh thanks mom._

 _Aoi-chan said: What happened with the neighbour after all?_

Oh right; she had called to complain about him. huh, she'd respond later.

 _Toll neighbour said: I left my clothes at your place, just drop them by whenever you wake up. Breakfast was good; cook something with pork for dinner._

Somehow, her heartbeat quickened. She loved this effortlessness between them…but at the same time, she hated it. How was she supposed to forget about her feelings? He was right damn it, confessing to a drunk man, half-drunk herself did nothing to help the situation, maybe the opposite. Because now that was all she could think about. He did say he wouldn't tell her even if he remembered after all, but would he be so heartless to ask her to cook for him if he did? And if not, what was up with their relationship? Why was it considered normal to ask her to cook things? It was her fault, yes, but she couldn't pin point when her casual behaviour became too caring towards him and that drove her nuts. Because now she would really have only two options: start ignoring him or confess when he wasn't drunk. And both choices hurt her soul.

She sighed, as she stood to go about her day. Why did she have to fall for the man across the hall? That was too cruel, even for her; just after she had made all those grand declarations of being better off alone, too. How ironic.

She decided to tweet a post about epic hangovers, hashtag neveragain, hashtag I'mgettingolderhelp and then instagrammed a picture of her, looking like a hot mess. The response was, per usual, huge but this once she noticed a new trend: people kept asking her about who she got drunk with or, more accurately, _did you get drunk with the neighbour_? For the first time, she really wanted to scream mind your own goddamn business.

.

"Tokio, did you use butter in this?"

She gave him a look with the edge of her eyes. She was right to assume he wouldn't be back before six and that's when she had started everything; given she wanted to make this a little gourmet and fancy, she decided she wanted butter. And champagne. And, naturally, it had to be finished the moment he came back, not to grow cold. Then maybe, she could loosen his tongue a bit, find out if he really did not remember anything.

So, when he decided to say that, first thing after they sat down to eat, she was a little taken aback. "That's literally the last thing I expected to hear; how can you tell?"

"It's very creamy," he complimented.

She snorted with laughter. "Wow, you can differentiate."

He shrugged. "I have a discerning pallet."

She snorted again. "Look at you, using all those refined words…do you now? Then you'll be blown away at my book party…!"

He looked at her curious. "Your what?"

"My book party, Hajime, don't be ridi-…" She stopped mid-sentence; she froze. Expressionless, trying to internalise all the panic that started to take over her, she looked straight at him. "Did, did I not tell you about my book party?" He shook his head. "The event my parents always organise for me one day before my new book comes out?"

A little more aware of the situation, mighty amused, he shook his head no once more. "Bu, but, that's why I wanted the kimono, that's why I was climbing up there, I never told you?"

"Nope."

"Shit; shit! Hajime, oh my god; please, don't tell me I never even asked you to come to the thing my parents would be taking care of…?"

"I'm afraid not."

He was legitimately smiling by now, taking bites between her freak outs. And whence he delivered the finishing blow, she actually stood from her chair…! And then sat back down when he gently tugged her downwards. "Relax, take it from the beginning…your parents, per usual from what I gathered, throw you a book party every time you release a new one, one day prior to the event."

She nodded furiously, relieved he was easy to catch on. "And you wear a kimono for some reason."

"It's a family tradition; the guests don't need to do the same, even if they usually do."

"And you intended to invite me to attend."

"Yes, thank you!"

"Alright," he really had to fight with himself not to laugh at her panic that only now seemed to dim down. "When is it?"

"Next Sunday, nine pm. But you and I will be going around eight; it's my book, I have to prepare a few things…"

He considered. "I can most possibly make it."

"That's not good enough, Hajime; you have to be sure! You're my plus one."

He blinked. "I'm what?"

She froze again, colour becoming bolder and bolder by the second. "My plus one; didn't I just tell you about it?" He shook his head no again, more amused than ever. "Shit, I'm so sorry; and I wanted to tell you ever since the attic incident coz I know how busy you are. I am so sorry…" She took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry Hajime, really." A pleading look. "I know it feels like I sprang this on you, but can you please come?" She fluttered her eyes, all cute. "Please?"

His sigh signalled defeat. "Wouldn't leave you unescorted, would I?"

She beamed! She physically jumped out of her seat and wrapped her hands around him, tightly, still sitting down. "Thank you, Hajime! It means the world to me." She faintly realised she was blushing and _oh my god, I'm actually hugging him_ , but she hadn't cared. She hated having to edit herself, after her new-found feelings. She simply looked up at him. "Can the others come?"

"Others?"

"Um, I figured you would want a familiar face in the crowd and decided to invite Souji-kun and Ria-chan, the Nagakuras and the Haradas; Hijikata-san and his plus one, too naturally—I want to meet that man."

"Considering this is the first I heard of it, it's safe to say they have no idea."

"…but I sent out invitations to them; and they are no longer in the drawer I kept them in. Are you sure, they hinted at nothing?"

He raked his brains for a long time, trying to remember any odd instances between them. "No, nothing of the sort." She blanched; he laughed. "It's a week and a half from now, relax; they still have time to decide, if you give them to me now."

Once more, she beamed at him. only this once, it was accompanied by a squeeze of her hands, wrapped around his neck and a soft nuzzle. "I'll go look right now!"

When she let go, he felt like something was missing; but when she was holding on to him, he felt electrified. He remained staring at his right shoulder as if it held the answers to his involuntary reaction, but he kept drawing blanks. He was all out of sorts. He…had enjoyed her forwardness; he hadn't minded the contact, only the lack of it afterwards. It was lucky he was holding on to his chopsticks, to be honest, because his fingers twitched, longing to touch her. For a brief moment, it made sense; the two of them, eating like this, hugging and sharing their day. And then reality came back and it was deemed too…familiar. All he heard was Okita's voice in his head, over and over again: are you two dating? No, they weren't. But…that line seemed more blurred by the second. Alright, they weren't a couple. What where they?

He remained troubled even after she triumphantly exclaimed a "yes!" from the other room and came bounding into her kitchen. She had found the invitations and was waving them like a flag. He forced his face into a neutral expression. "I had changed drawers and completely forgot about it, so I had thought they were sent. I am such an airhead sometimes…"

"Some, she says."

She punched his arm. "Please distribute them properly."

"I will."

Then she did something quite unexpected: she put the invitations in his shirt pocket, bulky as it became, and fixed his tie. "Do impress on Hijikata the importance of his presence; I really want him there." She put her hand on the side of her mouth and leaned deeply as if sharing a big secret. "You can lure him out by implying I may have his special copy with me, which I shall give to him personally."

"Heh," he was amused "that'll probably convince him."

"Perfect! And now," she surveyed the table; her plate was almost finished and she didn't feel like eating anything else; his was empty, too "want desert or will you be going back home?"

"Did you bake it?" She shook her head no. "Then I won't feel guilty turning it down; wanna relax some and look at some details for the case."

"Hope you catch whoever did it; child killers make me sick."

There was a long pregnant pause after that statement. He was ready to snub "me, too" back, but then he realised…she knew his case? The way he looked at her was serious. She frowned. "Oh, right." She easily sensed his misgivings. "You let it slip, yesterday night; something about child beaten and since you're in homicide, I figured it out."

Some of his colour was gone. "Did I say anything else?"

"No—"

 _Thank Buddha_

"—only advised me to beware of people."

"That does sound like me." He tried to shake this off. "Need to go look at some files now; hopefully catch whoever did this before the week is out."

He slapped her thigh twice; she immediately interpreted it correctly as "get off" and stood from his lap; then both distantly realised she was sitting in his lap for the entire second segment of their conversation without either of them catching on. She didn't seem to mind, too and he felt all the more conflicted about it.

But he chose to voice none of those thoughts. "Can you make me some tea?" he asked instead.

"Tea?" A suspicious eyebrow was raised. "You don't like tea…"

"Which is why I drink it when I study cases like these."

She shrugged. "You do you," she simply said and patted him on the back clearing the table. "As soon I'm finished clearing the table, I'll make some for the both of us."

"Thanks."

He put on his shoes, took his keys and left for his apartment, knowing she would follow in five minutes; for some inexplicable reason, it made him smile…and that was the very reason it made him worry, too. What was wrong with him?

.

.

"You do remember me saying you didn't have to wear traditional clothing, too, yes?"

"But I like it and never had a chance to wear it before."

Her disbelieving chuckle was all it took for them to leave; he locked his door, handed the keys to Tokio, who put them in her little bag, and they moved for the elevator. No stairs for today; her feet, trapped in that tight kimono, couldn't possibly make the distance. She didn't have to tell him, of course, he was no simpleton, but the truth of the matter was his mind did seem to go a little slower than it used to, ever since he looked at her.

Maybe it was the impressive colours, or the flattering cut; it could have been the make-up, emphasising her already expressive eyes; whatever it was, he could feel it drag his mind down, process everything just a smidge slower. He never complimented her on how amazing that shade of indigo stitched together with that lavender made her look; nor how her hair pin, reminiscent of the old days, matched her perfectly. He couldn't even articulate how regal she looked in general, clad in all that fabric.

But she did; and he hoped she realised by his stunned look, even for just a second.

At least she would have, if she hadn't been so busy staring herself; it was almost unfair how well this type of dress suited him! He was always tall and imposing but with this outfit, it was unreal. Blue hues both for the haori and hakamashita, with grey hakama and belt. It was…exquisite. It really suited him, too. And that shade of blur brought out the unusual amber of his eyes…he was to die for.

 _Ah damn, I hope I'm not showing too much_.

She wasn't thankfully; they got to the car, drove all the way to her parents' mansion and then arrived at the doorstep, without him ever noticing once. It all consisted of small talk, teases and comfortable lulls of silence. And then the door opened to reveal her parents and their exuberance.

"The guest of honour has finally arrived," her father said kindly as he enveloped his daughter into a hug.

"How is my cutie doing?" her mother followed suit. "And you sir, welcome to our home."

The father let go of his daughter and both parents gave a bow to the newcomer; Saitou was taken aback by the sudden formality – despite being dressed more traditionally than actual samurais and samurais' wives of the 1700s, their display with their offspring had been too casual – and bowed, too.

"What is your name young man?" Her father inquired as he let him into his home.

"Saitou Hajime, sir."

"I am Takagi Kojuuro, my wife Tooka; we are pleased to meet you."

"You must be our Tokio's neighbour then!" her mother connected the dots immediately. "She's told us so much about you, I feel like I know you already." A giggle then. "Please, do forgive her for her behaviour at times; she's been spoiled I'm afraid."

Tokio's glare went unaddressed.

"We would like to extend our thanks to you, too, for keeping a good eye on her and keeping her out of trouble," her father continued and Tokio actually smacked Kojuuro on the arm.

"He is a police officer after all, darling," her mother pointed out "he knows how to handle difficult people."

"The only difficult thing about me is I don't do as you like," she half-joked, half-accused as she grabbed Hajime. "Now me and my _ward_ shall go make sure things are proceeding as planned, then go find Tora and Tsuki. You go tend to the catering and the guest list, please."

She strong-armed him out of her parents interfering ways and all the way into the main hall, where all the ceremonies would be held. It was a huge open space, clearly a room to hold such events in. It was glamorous and expensive room, all hardwood floors polished to perfection. They had dressed it up, trying to make it look like a room out of Kyoushirou's palace, just like in her book.

Why choose the villain's place of dwelling he did not know.

Still, some arrangements indeed needed to be made, and he watched as she suggested this be moved there and that here; she changed the flowers in some pots; she swapped furniture; she added pieces that the crew had on stand by in other rooms. Despite his clothes, a gift from his father upon his wedding announcement, he still helped carry things around.

But it was all worth it; when she was done with the preparations, he felt like he was about to receive an audience with Kyoushirou himself. After all, it was the author who applied the finishing touches, and no doubt the author who had commissioned this on the first place.

"And now we wait for the guests to arrive…!" she exclaimed as she surveyed the space satisfied.

He gave a small smirk. "Yes, Hina-sama."

She burst out laughing. "I am not Hina-sama; mother is! In this analogy, it's my father that's Kyoushirou."

"Oh, so you're their daughter, Toshihime."

"Mmmm, maybe…although she's still a baby when the book ends."

"She's still born though."

"Exactly."

"My dear lord," her brother's voice was heard from behind them "so it is true; not only does she torture you every day, she brought you here dressed in that garb, and made you lift things all evening."

"Tora," Tokio scolded affectionately as Saitou bowed to the newcomers "is that any way to talk about your favourite sister and client?"

"Favourite sister maybe; favourite client, not by a longshot." They all shared a polite laugh. "Hajime-san, long time no see. Allow me to introduce you to my lovely wife, Noriko."

"Pleased to meet you," the lean, beautiful woman on his arm said as elegantly as she gave a nod with her head, one that he returned.

"Our son could not attend," Tora informed Tokio who was looking all over for something "bed time is ten o clock and we are very strict about it."

"Poor kid," Tokio lamented.

"Your niece won't be here, too don't be like that," Noriko lost the elegance as she elbowed Tokio mischievously "you know we adults have to be adults from time to time, else we go mad."

"Tsuki did tell me she'll put Hana down and then come; Kaiji must be furious. He hates being apart from his little angel."

"He'll have to deal," Tora said humorously "because this isn't a child's play."

"Right, this is Tokio's play, apparently." Her father butted in into their conversation without remorse and Tokio puffed up her cheeks.

"She even ordered this most eccentric decoration, too," Tora played along.

"She wanted to match it with our outdated outfits, don't blame her," Noriko chimed in.

"I appreciate how you all gang up to bully her," Saitou commented offhandedly "I thought I was the only one who liked doing that."

The onslaught of random smacks that came everyone's way was to be expected. What it wasn't was that they also accompanied the first guests of the night. Hajime looked at his watch. "It's nine o clock sharp;" a smirk "that must be Hijikata."

"Really?"

"He's never late. And all of our watches are synched."

She seemed impressed. She was even more so though, when the staff led in a man she had never seen before, taller than Tora but shorter than Hajime, with a beautiful woman on his arm. He himself was quite handsome, too: long hair up in a ponytail, samurai-like, wearing the traditional hakama of any self-respecting Bakumatsu warrior, with chiselled features. His eyes were piercing.

She remained staring for a long time. "He's…just like I imagined Rintarou to look like," she whispered to her date breathless "as if someone took out my thoughts and manifested them right in front of my eyes, it's uncanny."

"Please, don't tell him that. I'll never hear the end of it," he whispered back as they approached.

When they finally met, both Saitou and Chizuru, Hijikata's fiancé, wished they hadn't. Albeit reserved and serious, Hijikata was, by all means and purposes, fanboying! What's more, he did it to the actual author of his favourite books, giving her ample chance to feed off of it, bounce on her two feet and seem like she was bursting at the seams from the excitement. When he gave him the book with the special inscription on it, he could die of joy. And their conversation was going on and on, seemingly forever; when more guests arrived, she would dutifully salute them, accept their compliments and then promptly turn back to Hijikata, who of course silently waited until they were gone.

That lasted for too long, if anyone asked their two dates, until some very familiar faces popped up: Okita and Ria-chan appeared, in the company of the Haradas.

"Hey!"

"Hey!"

And just like that, the conversation was taken over by the exuberant shorter man. The Nagakuras came at a later time; some journalists came, too. But the one presence that shocked Saitou most was that of their newbie.

Saitou looked at Okita; Okita nudged Harada; Harada motioned to Nagakura and Nagakura signalled to Hijikata; before long all four of them had circled Shinomori Aoshi and his younger date, a slip of a girl of nearly ten years of age.

"Misao-chan, Aoshi-san!" But it was Tokio's familiarity with him that stroke all as incomprehensible. "I'm so glad you could make it," she hugged the younger girl tight and bowed at the tall man, who returned it with respect. "I haven't seen you since you were this tall," she continued, pointing at Misao's shoulder "look how much you've grown."

The girl names Misao giggled. "It's only been a month, Tokio-san."

"Yes, but, look at you! they are taking good care of you."

Misao gave a modest look to the man on her side. "They do."

"Aoshi-san, I am happy to see you were able to bring her; I know Neji-san is getting older and doesn't have the strength to accompany as he once did, but I also know you too work hard."

He gave a short bow again. "It was an honour to be invited, Tokio-san."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait; how in earth do you two know each other!?"

It was Okita, bless his soul, that finally addressed the elephant in the room and the casual wave of her hand drove every single person positively mad. "Misao-chan is the daughter of the late Makimachi couple, good friends of my parents; she had a mind set on the arts and I tutor her whenever I am able. Aoshi-san is, let's say, her adoptive brother. Neji-san, her paternal grandfather, took him in when he was younger than Misao-chan."

Sanosuke Harada was in shock. "…why didn't you tell us you knew her?"

He shrugged. "I did not deem it necessary."

Nagakura had another question. "Why didn't you say you were connected with the Makimachis?"

"That usually brings bad or unwanted results. Nevertheless, I was aware at least one of you knew Tokio-san; I saw her handwriting on a note in the precinct's breakroom, so I apologise if you thought there was some deception in my actions."

Said woman patted him on the back. "Never mind, Aoshi-san; I too knew you entered the force yet said nothing about it. I mean, I wasn't completely sure, but I did hear what I thought was your last name…so, let's all wish you to do well and wrap this up."

"I shall try my best."

"No kid, try something less; you'll never leave the precinct at this point," his mentor said tiredly as he shook his head. Harada had the pleasure of watching him leave at the wee hours of the morning almost daily. And he wanted to go home, too but if the newbie didn't leave…how could he?

"Alright, that's enough; let's all go have something to drink! We have excellent sake and bourbon which I highly recommend…and the tastiest apple juice for our youngest cutie!"

The beginning of his undoing had come to pass; the first call was made.

.

"Hajime, don't eat it like that," she scolded him and actually smacked his hand to make his chopsticks let it go "you have to use your hands. That's the proper way."

"Since when?"

"Since the old days; we just grew too touchy feely as a culture and forgot some of our biggest pleasures. Now do it right! I didn't spend all those hours on research for you to shrug me off."

"Has anyone ever told you you're too fussy?"

"Certainly not; you are the very first human being to ever notice. How refreshing."

He caught the obi of her impressive kimono as she was trying to make her exit; she had to stop if she didn't want to embarrass herself. "Let go."

"Be polite about it."

"… _please_ let go."

He saw teeth, it meant she was about to pounce; satisfied by her ire, he did as she asked.

.

"You know, it's been two hours, four drinks and a dozen of snacks, yet you still haven't asked me to dance."

"I wasn't aware there was a time limit." She gave him a look. "I was not aware you wished to partake in that sort of activity, too." The smack followed. "I mean, I don't. I hate dancing."

"Look, you can either dance with me or you can hear me complain all night long about how you never danced with me; your choice."

"Oh? No threats to dance with another man if I don't?"

Her distaste was evident. "I'm not in the habit of making stupid decisions; now take my hand or suffer the consequences."

A smirk he wasn't able to resist appeared on his face. "As the lady wishes."

.

It was around half past twelve that Harada Sanosuke snuck to his side; Saitou had just had the last dance with his date, who went for a drink of water and a drink of whatever else she would decide on the spot. Harada tried to appear casual but he kept glancing over his shoulder to his wife and friends. The taller man resisted the urge to shake his head.

"So, Saitou…I couldn't help but notice you two. Are you two…dating perhaps?"

"And I haven't told you?"

"But you seem very close."

"So we do."

"What gives?"

"I don't know."

"That's not very satisfying."

 _Welcome to my world_ , he almost snapped but he decided against it. "I do know that."

"Come on, Saitou, throw us a bone here."

"Oh, you mean, Okita, who asked me the same thing ten minutes after he arrived? Or Hijikata? Or maybe Nagakura's wife who accosted me after one particularly nasty combination of shots?"

"…we are not very subtle, are we?"

There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, other than annoyance. "No, you aren't."

Harada walked away with nothing to show for his efforts. At least not immediately; it was barely ten minutes later, when Tokio was socialising with some of her high school friends – not out of desire – that her father approached him, as he stood at the side and watched his date's obligatory laughs and kindness.

"She's quite unique, my Tokio. She's always been so."

A little suspicious of the sudden interest in him, but willing not to show it, Saitou nodded. "She's also been impetuous and stubborn, too, even as a child; whatever she wanted, she took for herself."

"She does have that independent streak in her."

"Ah," her father exhaled "you wouldn't believe. We send her off to America to study Business and she came back a writer; we threatened not to fund her fancies if she did not start to show interest in our family business, she goes ahead and writes a best seller."

Saitou had no idea; he was visibly impressed with her. "She always had a mind of her own, this child; never listens to her parents. Never listens to anyone, actually…"

Saitou had to contribute. "That I noticed, too."

"Right?" Her father chuckled. "Did you know? We hate her being such a successful writer because now we are certain her wits and talents will never be used for what we need it; but we are very happy for her for she too is happy. Her work fulfils her, fills her with joy. And after almost seven years, we have come to terms with that…which is why we also long to see her be happy in more ways than one."

A long-suffering sigh escaped the man. "You see, our daughter is lucky in every aspect of her life except the romantic one; she has had a lot of ups and downs and she always ends up sad and alone. But as her parents, we want her to be fulfilled in that department, too—both her brother and her sister are already married after all…"

Saitou could see where this was going. "I mean, personally, I have given up hope she'll ever find anyone I consider worthy; I have to introduced her at least six men who would be ecstatic to have her hand but she keeps refusing them."

Geez, he could see why she didn't want to spend more than four consecutive hours at her family estate. "Her own choices aren't that better, too—those men never stick around. Not that I like them, so I can't complain. But then there's you."

Kojuuro looked at him solemn, all the gravity of a father making inquiries after his daughter hitting him at once. "You appear to have your life together; and from what I've heard, you make her laugh. I see your friends are all well-adjusted, married or engaged, too and one's friends say a lot about one's character. I have been informed you used to be married as well but are now divorced."

A thousand thoughts were going through his head rapidly, trying to make sense of this conversation. "Indeed."

"You are a detective; that's a reputable occupation, despite the difficult schedule. And you put up with her antics and bear her moods well. You carry yourself with dignity and have proven to be reliable. Now, I don't know what the relationship between you two is, she doesn't talk to me much about these things, but I do know she has a soft spot for you. So, Saitou-san, as a father and a scholar of this peculiar creature that is my daughter, I ask you: what are your intentions for my Tokio?"

Saitou remained immobile, staring at the man in front of him. What were his intentions? What did that mean? And why did it ring so…poignant, as if it resonated with some concealed part of him.

"Take some time to think about it; come back only when you have an honest answer. Until then, don't do anything I wouldn't approve of."

Then the man was gone behind the throngs of people who still loitered around. Saitou started sweating. "Here," he called out at the waiter that went about with fresh drinks; he grabbed two and drunk the first in one gulp. "Wait," he instructed him and after consuming most of the second, he put the two empty ones on his tray and took two more. "For the lady," he said defensively, when the waiter gave him a critical look.

The more he thought about it, the less, or actually more, sense it made. They were going in and out of each other's homes; they had respective keys to their respective apartments; she cooked for him and he took her out to dinner. They watched movies and talked about their day; she kept his favourite snacks in her cupboards and he made time to talk to her if he didn't see her throughout the workday. She sent him meals which he ate with eagerness; she would sit in his lap and neither would bat an eye because it felt normal.

Saitou experienced an uncommon feeling: having his eyes opened to something. That something being, Tokio and he were already in a relationship; they just hadn't realised it yet. As she came back from her exhausting talks with old classmates, she literally hanged herself on his arm and started complaining endlessly about stupid formalities and old grudges. He stood there, listening to her. But not really; his mind was far off, going over all the possibilities. This was something…he didn't mind. He enjoyed having her talk his ear off. She was entertaining. She was endearing. He loved having her around. He turned to look at her and there was something warm in his eyes.

He was sure it wasn't the alcohol; just her.

.

.

The next day, he woke up with a groan and a headache.

He was hangover again. If it weren't for that pleasant smell wafting around his room, that soft sensation in his arms, he would have been too annoyed by it. But he hadn't cared because his head found the perfect prop to settle and rest his neck on. His hands tightened around it and brought it close. It was heaven…until it moved.

"Um…Hajime?"

He went perfectly still. Slowly the dread, memories, guilt and shame came over him, flooding his previously charged senses. Opening his eyes slowly, he saw what he feared: he was lying in his bed undressed with his hands wrapped around a very much equally naked Tokio.

She chuckled as she turned around. "Hajime, Hajime, don't freak out, please. Stay calm."

"I'm not freaking out."

A smile. "You look like you want to."

Alright, that was funny, he gave in. Then, he cleared his throat and went serious. "I…don't usually do this." Her "I know, you said so last night" went ignored. "I never had, actually and I have been drunk some times since I got divorced. What happened?" She gave him a challenging look. "I mean, how did it come to this? I only remember bits and pieces and it's only the important parts."

She supported herself on her elbows while the – naked – half of her was now pressed directly against him. "You were the one who made the first move but, um, I might have goaded you into it."

"But, I don't do this; and I definitely don't get goaded into stuff like this. Why would you want to goad me into it anyway?"

Did he mention she was naked?

"Then maybe you **didn't** do anything you _wouldn't_ do while sober, ever thought of that?"

"Pretty cheeky, aren't you?" She stuck her tongue out at him. "And you haven't answered my question."

Her blush was glorious; he watched as the colour on her cheeks changed but _felt_ her temperature rise and that did something very weird to him. "Don't take this the wrong way but…I wanted to." An eyebrow was lifted in his signature way. "I wanted to see how you'd respond to me because I…" she looked away, a little awkward. "I like you; I mean, I'm really attracted to you. I think you're brilliant." She bit her lip. "And I didn't know how to tell you. We…are neighbours. If I said anything and you didn't, you know, I'd, you know and so I waited."

"Until I was drunk?"

"Yes; twice." His eyes became too wide; she had to laugh. "That night you came to me to apologise, I told you; you don't remember though."

"No," he admitted lamely.

If only he had.

"I know; you called me a coward though," she pouted "said I should woman up and tell you when sober."

Alright, yeah, he'd definitely say that; he enjoyed the small slap on the chest he got for smiling about it.

"But I couldn't; and then last night happened and you were pretty forward yourself so," she shrugged "I told you again. In a way. And now we're here."

Honestly, he understood perfectly but the fact she was naked and on top of him, at least half of her, was very distracting. Welcome, but distracting. Considering he had only faint memories from last night, too, this felt like the first time he ever saw her like this. He ran his hand up and down her side, feeling her soft skin. A stray tuff of hair fell in front of her face and he knew he just had to put it away.

When he did, she smiled; she was calm and confident as his fingertips lingered on her face. "Hajime, do you regret this?"

By her tone alone, it was obvious she knew the answer, but he decided to give it anyway. "No."0

"Do you feel tricked?"

"No."

"Then it doesn't matter how it happened; only that it did. And," she unpropped her elbows to lie properly next **and** on top of him "how it could happen again so you can **actually remember** this once."

He felt her leg intertwine with his, her body slithering around him. Instinctively, his hand brought her even closer, roaming around her curves and her rises. That pleasant stir in his gut meant he liked it, maybe more than he expected.

"I didn't imply you weren't memorable."

She kissed him while still talking; she kissed him after he stopped. He wasn't used to her taking charge, but at the same time he was; he let her literally climb on top of him, hands pinching his sides vengefully.

"It sounded like it."

A smirk. "By all means, no."

She swept down and claimed his lips; she was ferocious and passionate and had something to prove. But he wouldn't be defeated, so he grabbed her and with an impressive move, found himself on top. She squealed with delight and wrapped herself around him, allowing him to kiss her neck and fondle her thighs as his kisses became slower but longer. She kicked out when he found a tender spot; he bit her in return.

With no idea how they transitioned from innocuous flirting to wrestling underneath his sheets, he wasn't going to complain or stop now; after all, it felt good. And it felt natural.

.

.

One year later, the headlines of every self-respecting tabloid would write the very same, in big bold letters:

The famous writer Akai, well known for the Romantic Samurai and Private Eyes series of books, will be getting married to the the mysterious neighbour, who still won't show his face. Rumours say the wedding will be held in a secret location, to protect the groom's anonymity.

or a variation of those things. Yet all they had to do to learn his name was look at the wedding announcements at the very back of an unknown paper:

Saitou Hajime and Takagi Tokio will be getting married on the eleventh of November, at the Kitano Tenmangu temple. There to bless the union will be the head priest as well as the Takagi family's personal friend, the mayor of Kyoto.

* * *

 **A/N** : This ending took three different turns, but I finally decided on this one. Also, given they were neighbours and spent all that time together from the get-go, I think a year is more than enough for traditional Hajime to ask fleeting Tokio's hand, dunno if you agree. I hope you enjoyed my ravings as much as I did you beautiful, sweet people and I hope I see you on the next crazy adventure I cook up. One hint has already been given for the type of AU the next one will be, but have a second: keen swords and crafted armour comes into play.

Love you all,  
kisses, FAI.


	5. The Priestess and the Grump, Part one

**A/N** : Hello~! How is everyone doing?

I did it! I passed the theory for my driver's license today! To celebrate, I finally finished this piece, which I had lying around for a long, long time and didn't know what to do with it. I found inspiration from my success and wrote whatever remained and am now publishing it.

This is a...dun dun dun, adventure tupy of story! Yay...! I kept my promise. At least, adventure-y. As in, adventure RPGS and everything. I love tabletop games of that sort, DnD 3.5 and Pathfinder being my faves. But since Pathfinder is the one I last and mostly played, I'll be going with that. The story adheres to the rules of the game, as well as the spells, everything; I made character sheets and everything! xD But, naturally, the plot won't revolve around their spells or swords or whatever weapons they'll be having, these are just tools. The story will be an actual story, with plot and everything.

Now, a few things I would like to make clear. I do not own the content mentioned here, such as names of the lands, their political status and so on, so forth; they are all based on the material paizo has published. I am making _**NO**_ profit out of this fic right here, this is only for my reader's enjoyment. And my own.

Now, to help everyone a little, with names and such, I will make a small appendix.

 **Golarion:** earth, basically.  
 **Avistan:** Europe-esque.  
 **Absalom** : an island, think of it like Cyprus; the so-called centre of the world. Many centuries ago, the Starstone was risen from the depths by the God Aroden (the Absalom reckoning) (Aroden mysteriously died 100 years ago btw); three more humans, who took the Test of the Starstone, became Gods there. Their income is through trade and all that goodness. The wealthiest folk live there. It's in Avistan.  
 **Tian Xia:** basically, the continent of Asia in Pathfinder, but it's geography is a bit different.  
 **Minkai** : basically, Japan in Pathfinder, but it's a peninsula on its own, away from the other nations (and the epicentre of our story), which they can access only through the Spirits Road.  
 **The Spirit Road** : the path made after centuries of travel, leading safely through the Forest of Spirits.  
 **Forest of Spirits** : a thick, woodland area where kami dwell; some kitsune, too. In far recesses of the Forest, one can find Oni, as well. So long as Oni or humans do not harm the Forest, they are all left alone. It connects Minkai with the rest of the continent.  
 **Kasai** : Minkai's capital.  
 **Ameiko Amatatsu** : the Empress of Minkai, given the right to rule by the Goddess Shizuru, last surviving member of the Amatatsu  
royal family, one of the five ruling families of the land; 30 years old.  
 **Jade Regent** : the Oni (all Oni are evil in Pathfinder with veeeeeeeery few exceptions) who had taken over the throne before Ameiko returned. Jade Regent is also the name of the adventure path you play as a tabletop and if you manage to have a happy ending, the Jade Regent is killed and Ameiko is crowned.  
 **Chu Ye** : a country in the mainland, ruled by Oni. Evil-aligned.  
 **Hongal** : the country connecting the forest of spirits with the rest of the continent. Home of the Horse Lords, a chaotic, nomadic bunch.  
 **Shizuru** : Lawful Good patron Goddess of Minkai; worshipped throught Tian Xia. Takes the form of a Dragon as well as a woman.

And I think that's it! There are no other words you may be wondering about. If you think this is too much info, please let me know, but please bare with it. It's only for the first chapter.

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

"I really can't stomach this," the man irritably quipped, in a very uncharacteristic show of emotion.

He was pacing up and down the length of his five lined up men, in their full armour. He too was wearing armour, but the ceremonial one, almost useless in battle. It was extravagant and ostentatious, gilded with wild colours, exactly as he hated it. But he was going to meet the Empress today, as well as their newly appointed healer, also an offspring of great importance, so it could not be helped.

No wonder they were on stand-by out here, while the leader of their group in the company of a little mouse were in the audience room.

"Hijikata, relax. Don't speak such words."

Said man glared at the only man taller than him, who was second in line, but first in severity. Hijikata usually held a deep respect for the certain person, but right now even the slightest thing irked him.

"You of all people should not be telling me that, Saitou" he barked at him, clearly uncaring for the man's reasons or intentions. "As I recall, you were the first to disagree with the Empress's choice." He shook his head. "And just as I was reassured by virtually everyone there must have been some mistake, they go ahead and announce that there was no mistake after all…!" The last part, he sort of grumbled to himself than anyone else.

"Indeed," spoke Saitou "but if there is no changing the Empress's opinion after all this time, then we should not show any discontent with it directly. You know how the Palace works; worse, you know how _Takeda_ works. And right now, he managed to convince Kondou-san, your life-long friend, that his presence at court, a mere captain's like us, was more valuable than yours, _the vice commanders_."

Hijikata positively stewed at the recollection.

"Exactly," Saitou silently agreed, amber eyes shining dangerously. "You keep up appearances and allow me to be sour in your stead."

The shortest man, the first one in line, snorted his laughter at that. The tone with which that last bit was said, dark and absolute, was hilarious to him, for no one within the sixty—something-person's unit was more aware of Saitou's displeasure at the new appointment than him, Okita Souji. He must have heard him express said displeasure with varying degrees of conviction at least a hundred times.

A deep breath. "Let us hope the formalities will be done with shortly and we'll be called in." Hijikata heaved a longsuffering sigh. "Can't wait to get this over with."

The last man on the line elbowed the fourth. "We have things to do, after all," he said with a stupid grin on his face, "or _people_."

"Harada, stop that," the third man in line snapped annoyed "we'll be having a lady in our company shortly. Such comments are too boorish." He spoke with finality, fixing the glasses that had slid down his nose.

The one who was repeatedly nudged simply nodded. "And she's going to stay, too so I suggest you stop that altogether."

Harada was mortified. "But, but, but…that's no fun, Toudou!"

"You'll get to look at her for as long as you like though," Okita commented amused "even talk with her at a length."

Saitou's eye twitched. "Don't remind us, _squirt_."

"Just because you're as tall as a tree doesn't mean you're older, Saitou- _chan_."

"Call me that one more time…!"

The cough that escaped Hijikata's mouth stopped both men from physically attacking each other, who retreated to their previous positions with much difficulty, seeing they were standing directly next to each other.

And just as they were about to go at it, the huge wooden doors opened wide; the way to the palace's audience room was finally clear. Their time to meet with the Empress had come. As formal as they had never been before, they all stood at their full height, shoulders set; one by one, vice-commander first, they entered the much-expected meeting.

Everyone's eyes wandered, despite their best wishes, the moment they walked inside; everything was too impressive to do otherwise. The walls, the murals, the jade all around them…they weren't exaggerating when they called it the Jade Throne after all. The jade colour and most definitely material, was strewn all around them, in every shape or form: paintings, carpets, furniture…clothes. More specifically, the Empress Ameiko Amatatsu herself was wrapped up in it, green being dominant while red and yellow followed as an afterthought. Seated on her throne as she was, grand and imposing, brought all men to their knees as soon as they stopped walking.

"Stand," she called authoritatively "please."

Her voice mellowed a little at the second command, but it was in no way kind. But she gave them an order they didn't mind following, so they were standing in line in no time. As Hijikata looked up towards his members, he made a point of looking directly at Takeda and then a short nod, compelling him to fall in line with the rest of the captains. Kondou, seeing the movement, but Takeda not complying as if out of stubbornness, turned strictly at the offender. That did it for the little mouse and stood next to Harada, becoming the sixth person to line up behind Hijikata.

"Now that all the important players are here, I think it's time to introduce to you your healer. But before I do that, allow me to explain her position: She is the daughter of a great man, rich and well-respected, close friend to your leader's lord, Matsudaira."

A collective _oh shit_ could be seen almost waft through the air over all the men's heads. They were giving them a lady of the court as a healer? Were they insane or outright stupid? Or maybe they just wanted them dead so badly, they decided to pin them the death of this socialite.

"She's also one of my most trusted ladies-in-waiting, whose skills and suggestions I have the highest respect for." Oh great, the Empress liked her, too. They could _all_ die when she did. "Thus, I advise you not to underestimate her now that she will be presented to you."

She cleared her throat, purposefully louder and more serious than ever. "Takagi Tokio, please step forward."

Everyone's eyes shot towards the row of women, ten in total, that sat at the right side of the Empress. Their beauty and grace matched that of Ameiko herself, painted faces smiling kindly and clothes almost as impressive as hers. On her left, there was an elf, who immediately rolled his eyes – but they couldn't tell why he'd do that – who wore baggy and flamboyant clothes. From what they were told, this green-eyed, silver haired elf was married to a woman who was a monk, under Irori's orders. How the hell he managed to do that, they had no idea. Irori's monks are very reserved and disciplined.

Also, most of them were jealous, since that meant he had a very serious and strong woman at his side—at least Saitou and Toudou were, who thought the best woman to marry was one just like that.

Still, their curiosity came to a peak when they saw the ten women smile and then giggle in their oversized sleeves, very lady-like. What was going on? Why didn't this Tokio person step forward—what was she sitting there, giggling for?

And yet, they were taken again by surprise, when they watched two guards go for the double doors at the left, behind the throne. They drew them wide open…and they all watched as a relatively small, black haired woman walked through them, without a speck of make up on her face. Not only was she not painted to please, she was actually wearing…armour. And not just any sort of armour, no—she was wearing an intricate and even to a commoner's eyes sturdy full plate armour!

And that in itself was an oddity. What was a healer doing with such an armour? This slip of a person, shorter than their shortest, Okita Souji, had this on, as if it didn't weigh a thing, although this must have weighed a ton. And yet, the strangest thing of all must have been the make and design of it: it was all pitch black. There were green and red details but it was obvious they were painted on, that wasn't their real colour. Also, it savoured mostly of…western style, not their Minkaian make. It felt like this woman had seen adventurers from Avistan and decided to copy their style, while splashing some of their own in it.

Ugh, how sickening. What a way to spend daddy's money. From the get go, her and them would not be getting along. It only took one sweep of the men for Hijikata to notice all of them were very doubtful about this woman's "embellishments"—not to mention the platinum staff she held, topped with a blue diamond.

Other than that, though, she virtually did no wrong. The moment she came in, she bowed to the Empress respectfully and just as respectfully, she bowed first to Kondou and then the lot of them. By their commander's reaction, he'd met her before: he was amiable and quick to react. They imitated his example and then the woman finally spoke.

"Forgive me for being late, your Highness, gentlemen, but I encountered certain challenges on my way here. My name is Takagi Tokio and I am your assigned healer for this mission."

"There will be time for introductions later," the Empress dismissed all of them "what's important is you are all aware of each other and the stakes of this mission. Do you understand the importance of this task assigned to you?"

"Yes, your Highness," Kondou assured her majesty.

"Of course, my lady," Tokio also agreed.

"This piece of land I asked you to invade has been lawless and evil for too long; our land's own problems lent themselves to the oni of Chu Ye to become lords, instead of hunted evildoers. It is our duty to restore it to its former glory and help the Horse lords of Hongal fight this increasingly threatening nation."

Half of it was rhetoric, all knew: the Horse lords of Hongal could not care less about Chu Ye and their oni problems. Of course, that was partly why they had to step in and take hold of this situation—if the threat was left unattended any longer, it could come to bite them in the ass. There was Zi-ha in there, too a lawful nation, good aligned…but they had their own, internal problems. One part was all good and enlightenment and the other was giants killing people one day and trading with them the next and of course, who can forget the hell-touched reptilians who fought for dominance in their little pond between the mountains.

And there was certainly no help coming from the twisted Wanshou; those people were insane. Their ruler was a kraken—an actual kraken that descended upon them with such ferocity, they had no choice but to give in…and yet, they did nothing to shake his rule after he had settled either. Some seem to consider him a benevolent god, too! Whom, the kraken. With those three being the surrounding nations of Chu Ye, a land infested with oni, the same race who killed all of the noble families eligible for the throne in their own country – except the current Empress's due to the fact her great grandfather saw it coming and ran away – who could blame her for wanting to do away with them? It is an objectively good cause…one they didn't mind giving their life for.

They were samurai after all, warriors dedicated to a code. What better way to serve their code than that?

"I know I ask too much of you; you are very few and any other man would be terrified to be in your position. But I know what you are capable of; you proved it time and again when you fought against the evils of the Jade Regent before my arrival and then, when you fought for me to rid this country of all evil doers."

Or at least those who fomented political unrest, directed against her. Then again, most of those were either oni in disguise or oni sympathisers, so of course they would weed them out.

"I know the stakes are high and the risk is great; I know most of you are at an age where you start thinking of maybe having your own family and legacy…which is why I am, as of now, in presence of my treasurer, making this promise which will be honoured no matter what: whoever of you eight, even all eight of you, come out of this ordeal alive, will be given their own land and estate."

The men looked unprepared for that statement, evident by their honestly surprised faces, looking between one another. This was too good to be true…but Hijikata did elude to some sort of compensation from the Empress that was not made formal yet. Maybe this was it. And by the look of annoyed compliance by the treasurer, the silver-haired elf, it must be true.

Saitou felt his heart beat stronger; this was a great reward. The Empress was right: this could easily give him all the leverage he needed to have a decent wedding…whence this whole ordeal was over and he actually found a woman to his liking.

"As of now, your mission starts. Go with Shizuru. And Tokio…keep them safe."

The young woman nodded solemn; she took a deep bow, honouring her ruler and only then did she follow after everyone. She had to follow after them for a long while, actually, as not one of them made an effort to wait. By the time she caught up, she was almost panting.

"I see you are all very excited…" she commented good naturedly. "Is it safe to assume we are heading for your—the caravan?"

"Indeed," Hijikata assured, pace never slowing down. They were very lucky Kondou had stayed back with her highness for the last-minute arrangements, otherwise they would have all been scolded.

"That's great; my tent and its furniture have already been moved there."

"What about clothes and back up weapons?" Saitou asked immediately.

She patted the black leather satchel on her hip. "All in my trusted bag of holding."

He made a visible effort not to say anything about her fancy bag, a matching colour with her armour. She caught the exasperation though; still, decided against voicing any opinions.

"So, tell us Tokio-chan!" Okita, the only one who looked actually happy with her presence, started the conversation. "Will this be your first mission for her highness—I'm Okita Souji by the way?"

She smiled. "Yes, I know of all of you. And sort of; I have been entrusted with her health from the moment she came to the palace, but this is the first time she sends me off somewhere."

"So, you've been her personal healer for two years, huh? Cushy job…" Saitou commented again, disapproval visible. "Live-in at the palace no doubt…"

No, actually; far from it. She had been in the palace far too little—not even enough not to get lost every time she had to show up to help the Empress. But she had a feeling, if she told any of that to the tall, decidedly moody man in front of her he would A) scoff at her and B) not believe a word. So, she decided to smile instead. It wouldn't do well to establish unfriendly relationships with any of the unit's captains.

"From what we gather, you must be quite important," Takeda stepped right in, making an effort to be likeable. "Rich father, help of Matsudaira-sama…"

"Makes you wonder what you might have done to be exiled on this mission with us."

Okita and Takeda turned to glare at Saitou; Hijikata tried not to smile. Tokio, on the other hand, was at a loss. What was his problem?

"I requested to be sent here with you," she replied, too cordially for the way he spoke to her "I deemed your quest to be a heroic and necessary one. The Empress thought so, too and allowed me to join."

"Is that a euphemism for saying _I threw a tantrum long enough I forced my father to put his connections to good use_?"

Alright, that was too hostile, even for her, she had to address this. Good relations were important but setting a precedent where this person could walk all over her was a big no-no, too. "I beg your pardon?"

Oh, offended, was she? Her voice had bite into it. Saitou slid his eyes to her, a little amused. "Women of your social standing don't get sent on suicide missions; they stay home to be pretty and heal the ruler when it's asked of them. So, you either did something horrible, which I can't imagine you doing to be honest, or had your father sent you on a whim, without realising the read danger of your endeavour. We'll be fighting oni and men who only want one thing: kill indiscriminately, enough to earn themselves the mantle of their twisted God. Do you think you can handle that much blood and death?"

"…I believe you have misjudged my function. I was not sent to kill for you, I was sent to keep you alive and that is what I will be doing for the duration of our mission. I can leave the gore to you, I think, but if you believe being a healer is blood-free, you must be delusional."

She was calm and kind, but just as scathing as him. Her smile never wavered but neither did his sneer. Okita was full glaring at him now, eager to make a good impression and a new friend, while Takeda was condescendingly shaking his head.

Hijikata would have scolded him, to be honest, had the girl not answered so well for herself. But Saitou had indeed overstepped; even the rest of his comrades, who were opposed to her appointment, thought him too harsh.

"At least you have some back-bone," Saitou said offhandedly "that's comforting."

"Don't listen to this man, Tokio-sama," Takeda immediately tried to salvage all he could "he is a nefarious individual with a famously foul mouth, who takes pleasure in instigating people."

Saitou snorted. "Takeda, are you confusing me for yourself?"

"Stop, the both of you," the vice commander warned, knowing full well how this situation could devolve. "Saitou, apologise to the lady."

"There is no need, Hijikata-sama," Tokio stated firmly "he merely stated what he thinks of me. Whether that's true or not, is a different matter."

"He **is** a savage." Takeda casually supplied.

"At least he has the sincerity to tell me his opinion to my face," Tokio snubbed back. She really didn't like sycophants, one of the main reasons she had chosen this way of life since before she turned sixteen, six years ago.

Torn between commending her for her excellent judging of character and telling her off for thinking he needs to be defended, Saitou remained begrudgingly silent.

But this is where the blessing of having such an upbeat personality came in use: sensing the stalemate, Okita came to the rescue! "Say, Tokio-chan, what is this staff you're holding for? I can see you don't use it to walk."

"Oh, this helps me as a healer. It's a very good backup plan—or safeguard in a pinch."

"Must have costed a fortune though!"

She chuckled. "It wasn't cheap, yes."

"Daddy has deep pockets, he can handle it," Saitou couldn't help himself. "Same with the armour, I bet. Where did you get it, the market?" She met his snide remark with a stare. "Ah, I forget, you can't buy stuff like that; you have to order it. How commoner of me." She became serious. "But it is an amazing armour; really, where did you get it?"

Her smile was terse. "I will answer any question you may have once I deem you actually want to hear what I ahve to say; until then, it's none of your business, no matter how jealous you may be." He gave her a look. "Unless of course, you'd like one for yourself but can't afford one and are too shy to admit it. I could have _daddy_ make one for you."

All sorts of words threatened to spill out of his mouth, colour rising with them, but he decided against it, in the nick of time. "I hate being handed charity almost as much as the hypocrites who give it so readily."

"Then I guess we'll never know the secret of the armour…" she finished with theatricality and had to stop herself from smiling too much.

Positively stewing, Saitou left her to her devices, walking even faster. Once Okita was sure everyone was too occupied trying to cheer him up or glare at Takeda, he went very close to the woman. "Ne, ne, Tokio-chan, do tell me…where did you make the armour? It looks super cool and I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Oh?" she could see this man was maybe the best the unit had to offer, in terms of friendliness or courtesy and, to be honest, he was very likeable. "Then you have to keep it a secret, yes?" He nodded furiously. "Well, see," she leaned in conspiratorially "this is a special armour, made for me by one of the greatest craftsmen in all of Golarion: a dwarf named Khaleel, living in the Petal District." When he looked a little lost to where that district was, she added even more excited: "In the city of Absalom."

Okita's chin fell. She deemed it a worthy reaction and smiled knowingly. The shock was so potent, he actually fell behind a few steps, causing everyone to look and wonder what the hell happened, but when he caught up, bursting at the seams for wanting to know more, it was Saitou that noticed how he accosted her, voice nothing but a hushed whisper.

"A, Absalom? _The_ Absalom—hailed as the centre of the world?" She nodded yes. "You've actually been there?"

"Plenty of times; but no one from this side of the world knows, save her majesty, not even my father."

He gaped once more, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn't there before. "Tokio-chan, are you a rebellious daughter?"

"No, I'm an adventuring one."

She put her finger in front of her mouth to convey this needed to stay strictly between the two of them and winked. "And then there were two. Make sure it doesn't become three that know."

He let out a boisterous laugh, attracting people's ire and attention. "You bet." He leaned closer, too. "Silent as the grave," he affirmed, crossing his heart with his pinkie. She was satisfied.

Saitou though, watching them from afar, despite their distance, was now intrigued. What secrets could the two of them be sharing, so early on in their meeting? He had to know. Sadly, he wouldn't be able to get the info from his friend later that evening, when they had reached their caravan.

Once Kondou finally showed up, too, smiling to the fullest, given all sorts of things from the Empress and Matsudaira-sama – Tokio's father had actually chipped in, too making Saitou roll his eyes – buried deep in not one but three bags of holdings. Deeming the loot satisfying, Hijikata gave everyone permission to start their journey.

There were many men around—sixty-eight fighters, including the figureheads and the captains and two additional healers. But the horses were only twenty. One for her, one for every important member of the company and one for the two lesser men of medicine they had brought with them; the rest were saddled with carriages which were loaded with their things, such as tents and furniture. So, seventy one people, twenty horses.

They had a difficult journey ahead of them; ascend the entire country of Minkai, heading east, walking through the forest of spirits and then finding themselves in the land of the Horse lords to reach some agreement for safe passage. It was preferable to having to go through the land of the Tengu, Kwanlai, who felt perpetually wronged and then right into the clutches of the insane kraken-worshipping Wanshou. It's de longer but much safer, for their unit's number was small, less than a hundred; with a little bit of luck, no one would see them as a true threat.

But the fact remained, the journey to their destination alone would take more than three months, accounting for any creatures they might encounter. And the Forest of Spirits was no walk in the park…

"Or," Tokio decided to speak, when the men were trying to etch their course "we could go by ship to Chu Ye directly; leave the Forest alone. Travel to the Sankyodai mountains and make the passage from there."

"Are you _insane_?" Saitou couldn't help but snub. "This is a stealth mission, as well as anything else; taking a ship from there to Chu Ye all but announces our presence and intentions. Also, it puts us right next to their capital."

Tokio was displeased. "Don't we **want** to storm the capital?"

Saitou clicked his tongue. "Yes, with the possible help of the Hongal and Zi Ha. And maybe, if those two are moved, Jinin will send some skilled men to fight. But we won't storm the capital as we are now, we can't."

"Never count on a Horse Lord for help," she said it as a dogma "and those damn elves are rarely moved from their asses to do anything, so I don't think Jinin will be of much help. Zi Ha is the most likely to help, but even they have serious internal problems."

"Since you know everything, why don't you share with us why it's a bad idea to do what we were going to do anyway?"

Her eyes became too wide. "Why should we risk upsetting the kami of the Forest when there's another way? We won't be taking the Spirit Road, since this is a stealth mission, thus it's immediately ten times more dangerous, you know that. Plus…don't you know of the growing threat in the East?"

Hijikata and Kondou looked at each other solemn; the rest were simply confused. It was Toudou who spoke first. "The what now?"

"East of the Osogen Grasslands, tainting the Kamifushi Mountains, there's a dangerous band of fallen samurai and their followers. Numbers are unknown as of yet, but it is well established that the Ronin encampment has built up defences against them. They do their best not to be associated with them and go to great lengths to protect merchant caravans as well as the trade route."

Saitou's eyes became smaller. "Here, in Minkai?"

She nodded. "They have been smart in choosing their victims, only attack those who don't carry too many things or too valuable; and none ever returns. But between those, was a covert delegation, bound for the capital. They intercepted them, tortured them and once they found out all they could, actually let them go, sending them straight to Kasai and her majesty. Obviously, it was some sort of message. It's all been kept quiet, naturally, but I never thought it was kept so quiet even you didn't know."

Hijikata sighed. "She's not wrong," he finally admitted "that is a fact. There's something…sinister brewing up on those mountains."

"Then why shouldn't we go there?" Harada all but hit his fist on the small, make-shift table. "Take care of this threat, before it grows too much."

"That takes time, Harada-san," Nagakura said thoughtfully, as he pushed up his glasses "it would take us out of our way and probably isolate us from anything else."

"The Empress could be sending another group to take care of that already, too" Toudou added, hand on chin "and we'll just be in the way."

"But if people are indeed go missing, what's the harm in helping said hypothetical unit?" Okita offered. "And if the Empress hasn't found a way to combat them yet, what's the harm in trying our best and being the first ones to do something about it?"

"The Ikkaku peninsula is for the largest part uncharted and uninhabited. Too few are known for the people residing there," Hijikata countered. "Maybe this threat is expecting someone like us to show up and we'll be their first show of dominance."

"That's too grim," Saitou didn't like the sound of that "and I had thought you put a little more faith in us than that. I'm not saying you're wrong but think of the reputation we would make for ourselves if, on our way to a more important battle, eliminated another source of grief for the people…and her majesty."

"You have a point," the vice commander was ready to be convinced.

"But it will prove too dangerous; and then there are the politics of the palace to consider. There are too many eager to see us fail," Tokio reminded, teacher mode on "or slander us. If we do anything outside of our strict duties, people will talk."

"People talk anyway," Saitou dismissed her "and if the common folk talk nicely, there's not much the kiss-asses from the palace can do. Besides, we _can_ defend ourselves, yes? if these fallen samurai attack on their own, we can't just roll up and die."

"Our presence alone will be an incentive to them, indeed," Nagakura corroborated.

Tokio sighed heavily. "Fine, do not listen to my suggestion, let's take the scenic route. But, we must not wilfully engage the samurai."

"…we shan't."

Ah, damn; Kondou spoke, there was no challenging his authority. "We will take the land-bound path, but no unnecessary battles. We need to conserve our resources and strength. No instigating anyone, too, got it?"

Every person in the room nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm. "Got it?"

"Yessir!" They chorused altogether, when they saw he was taking none of their half-assed shit.

"Very well; let's begin this journey anew. And good luck to us all."

Kondou and Hijikata remained behind to work out the finer details of their schedule, but the rest respectfully made their exit. It was then that Saitou purposefully slowed down his pace, to find himself behind Tokio and when the rest were a good distance away, he finally grabbed her attention, by barking at her:

"What the hell is wrong with you? Not only did you attend a captain's meeting without being invited, you dared make the commander change his mind for no other reason than you said so?"

She was offended. "I explained my reasons thoroughly—it isn't my fault I made more sense to him than you! And, by the way, my given rank for this mission is the same as a captain's so there's that."

He disregarded her second line completely. "The only reason he listened to you was because it was you who said it."

"I detest that!"

"Too bad that's the truth."

"No, it's not—what's your problem with me anyway?" She found herself in front of him and in his face in a split second, he actually had to take a step back not to knock her down. "I've been here two days and all you've been doing is deriding me."

"You really wanna know?"

She remained looking at him challenging.

"Alright, I'll tell you: you are rich and important, which means, in this unit, you are an oddity. By extension, every other single person must keep an eye on you, make sure you're okay, otherwise it's all our asses on the line. If anything happens to you while on this mission, your father will move heaven and earth to seek justice—of any kind. So, we both have to baby-sit and prioritise you. Not to mention, you are a woman, another oddity for this unit. I don't know if you've noticed but this is an-all male type of thing. Even the two additional healers we had the right to choose, those are men, too. And we barely know them. So, sixty-eight men for the warriors and two healers—seventy men. And one woman. Just the one. How well do you think that will turn out?"

"Okay, first of all, I am here to keep your asses safe, not the other way around and my father has no bearing on whatever happens on this mission, that was made perfectly clear to him; and secondly, oh I'm sorry, I didn't know! Are all men rapists? Or are all women useless?"

He clicked his tongue. "Men are stupid. Men are proud, too and usually, their egos dwarf their real worth, otherwise we wouldn't have so many deaths. Add to that recipe a cute, young woman, who came to help with her big doe eyes, and it will undoubtedly spell trouble. Bonds are made, preferences form, words are misinterpreted and before you know it one idiot will be fighting with the other over who gets to have the girl in the end. Or just _plainly talk to her_."

"That is not true."

"We'll both be here long enough to see what I just told you become reality, so I don't worry too much. And just so you know, these are the exact sentiments of Hijikata, too—he's just in a too difficult place to say anything but don't think even for one moment anyone other than Okita remotely likes you being here—at least not anyone out the eight of us." He snorted. "Maybe Takeda; that snake likes slithering around wealth too much."

She stood there, silently brewing, hands made into fists. "And no matter what your father was told, I'd like to see anyone stand in the way of him and getting his revenge for his precious daughter. A poor man can move mountains for the same reason; I'd hate to see what a rich one can do."

She remained begrudgingly silent, again and he clicked his tongue, to fill the void. "Could have gone to a mixed gender quest, but no, you chose this one…let's just hope you're as good as you claim to be and we don't all end up dying from the third battle."

"Let us hope you're as talented as your arrogance implies, too or I won't have anyone left to heal."

His smirk was crooked and his eyes challenging. "We'll see…" He moved to go, as she stood ramrod straight and unmoving. But then he remembered something and stopped short. "I never did ask you, but how come you can heal? Are your magic powers divine or arcane?"

"I'm a cleric." She said it too bitterly, too annoyed.

"Well then, _priestess_ , may you have a short, fast tenure." He snorted. "May Shizuru help us all."

After that, he was gone behind rows of samurai, heading for his own squad no doubt. She could not for the life of her move though. What an…abrasive person! To think he thought so little of her for no other reason than her station and gender, how ridiculous. Yes, there were plenty of socioeconomic reasoning behind all of it, but how uncouth to assume, when he undoubtedly fell victim to same behaviours. Besides, from what her info told her, he was from a rich family before he was disowned, too so it makes even less sense.

Well, she never looked into _why_ he was disowned…

But that was simply details. He didn't strike her as a hypocrite or as a sexist person, so his problem was honestly rooted to what he told her. So, if she did her job right, maybe he will finally come around and stop treating her like this. Now, why she was so fixated on getting this one man to like her was obvious: other than Okita, everyone else in the entire unit seemed to be humouring him or do his best not to come to a disagreement with him. If she wanted to win over the majority, she had to get him to be civil with her.

That was the goal.

And the fastest way for that to happen, of course, would be through an actual battle. Too bad things had been smooth sailing for them so far.

* * *

 **A/N** : Don't worry, the battles will come! Aaaaand this was the first chapter of this short story. I hope you enjoyed it~ Leave a review on your way out lovelies. Kisses,  
FAI~!


	6. The Priestess and the Grump, Part two

**A/N** : My muse came back, but not for the story I wanted. Also, hooray, I found out I have some sort of issue with my wrists and it's quite painful to use my arms extensively (found out at work the hard way, had to go to the hospital) so writing gets a back seat. Ah...anyhow, I can't give up on it, no way. I just pul through and bite the bullet.

 **Anon** , thanks for the interest. The fires were terrible but luckily for me very very far away from where I live. There were many dead and the damage was extensive; it was horrible. To think that all happened because the goverment didn't strongarm the program of installing the firezones as they should because people protested about tourism. Well, is this any better? Ridiculous. Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to go off there, but so much death and destruction for no reason, you know?

Well, let's change the subject; back to this story because I recently got a big shot of inspiration. I hope you love it as much as I do! Have a great day dearies, and I hope I can publish another chapter in my main story soon. Till then, be good, safe and happy.

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

Tokio was a stubborn woman; Tokio was also _not_ a show off and although she had realised that that would have been the fastest way to be accepted by the unit, she couldn't bring herself to do it, in the end. After all, why should someone as skilled as her be forced to endure this discrimination and, since that was the case, why should she be the one to try and prove herself? Not to mention, she would be forced to act in a manner that went against her character and all of that just so one particular man would stop talking smack about her—yeah, no. Thus, her thoughts became petulant...and so did her behaviour.

But that turned out as unhelpful as Saitou's sneer. And for all ten days she'd been with them, it was a mixture of derision, pouting and a breathless Okita trying to reconcile all parties involved. After all, it was just Saitou who continued this mode of action with her; the rest eventually started conversing with the woman. She was proud to say she made all of them laugh.

Twelve days into the uneventful trip, something finally happened. Just as she was in the middle of a very unladylike laughing fit somewhere around the middle of the long caravan, next to an extremely amused Toudou Heisuke, the horn was sounded. It was long and ear-splitting; an attack!

All other activities ceased immediately and everyone went into battle mode.

Ah shit; she was new. She had no idea what these men's positions were or – even worse – her own! She looked all around her to find all the unit captains take their positions in front of their respective unit...while all units, from one long line that the caravan had been until now, formed a two-men collective front. Impressive; their response time that is. Their formation, solid. But that is, only if they were facing an army. She had the sneaking suspicion that was not the case.

Without expecting anyone to tell her what her position was, she urged her horse to go forward.

"Tokio-chan! What are you doing, come back!"

As she was bypassing them, she heard Okita's cries of desperation for her to fall back – as if, what idiots – but she thoroughly ignored him. The unit leaders looked between them completely disbelieving, Hijikata close to gaping.

"Do you even know what we're up against!?" Nagakura was heard.

"Do you?" she countered, not too far away yet.

"No, but this is why-!"

"—you're all standing in a line?" She shook her head dismissively. "I am going to find out what we're up against and come back to tell you."

Hijikata had to grind his teeth and breathe in and out many times not to pounce. "For the love of Shizuru and all that is holy bring. That stubborn woman. **Back**. Right now." He turned to look at all of them. "Any moment now. I'm waiting."

But everyone was too numb to move; one second; two; a command split the tension then, and Saitou's horse shot forward!

"Goddess be with me, I'll kill her when I reach her!" he exclaimed to no one but himself as he was running to reach her. He never really lost sight of her, none of them did. It was just too shocking she decided to move on her own. They were a unit damn it! Units moved uniformly and no one broke rank, what the fuck was she thinking? Now someone else, most probably Okita, had to take command of his men while he ran after the damn spoiled priestess!

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted before he reached "Come back now!"

"See these hills? The threat lies behind them. Your hawk warned you of the danger because it can fly, but none of you actually know how to talk to it so you don't know what that danger is. Your formation may be your undoing, or it could save you. If one doesn't make the trip to warn you, how would you know?"

"We always do the same: fight them as they come."

"That's stupid."

"That's all we can do. We are a band of samurai, priestess, no other professions; melee is our biggest specialty and our discipline our biggest asset."

"Not anymore you aren't, idiot." she spat the word to his face. "And I'll be damned if I let more people than necessary be hurt by your self-destructive practices." He moved to catch the reigns of her horse, but she skillfully moved out of range. "If you value your hand, do not try that again." Something in her tone told him she wasn't joking and he had to look at her twice. His respect for her went up a tiny bit but other than that, he was more pissed than ever.

"Hijikata ordered me to bring your ass back and that's what I'll do."  
"We reached our destination, might as well let me see."

She gave him no chance to complain further, she jumped off her horse while he was ready to open his mouth. He could have _smothered_ her right then and there!

" _This is dangerous!"_ he whispered very aggressively after he too jumped off the horse and went next to her, both crawling on all fours.

The moment he stood beside her, though, he saw it: hidden by the trees on the hill their heads could peek out and finally spot the small army of Giants waiting for them. They were no more than twenty in number...but they **were** ten feet tall with huge spears and hair made of fire. Their eyes were orange and their skin dark, almost sun-burnt brown; their breastplates made of metal. And, strangely, they were all standing around the edge of the surrounding forest, as if waiting for someone to come out and into the clearing...

" _Fire Giants_ ," she simply stated then " _armed and actually wearing armour, they'll be tough to hit. Not just any Fire Giants, too many of them are Polearm Masters. Not to mention they exhibit an unusual amount of patience, for such short-tempered creatures."_

His eyes slid to her annoyed. _"_ You _know a lot."_

" _I am full of surprises."_

He clicked his tongue displeased as she motioned for them to fall back. But her movement happened to coincide with the emergence of the one the Giants were expecting and they were both shocked to see it was their leader: an even bigger Giant with even darker skin and more threatening aura...the two exchanged but a look and made a run for the horses!

Up on the saddle in seconds, they ordered their horses to go forward with every ounce of speed they possessed.

"Where the hell have you-?"

"Much stronger than average Fire Giants heading our way," Saitou immediately reported, not giving Hijikata a chance to vent his anger "twenty one in total."

"Armed to the teeth, wearing actual armour. They—"

A terrible war cry was heard all the way from behind the damn hill; she watched as half the men visibly shuddered and really wanted to smack Saitou right now: discipline or not, every human being feels fear. "They are coming;" she persevered "and they have a semblance of command."

"We need to change formation immediately," she heard Saitou next to her and the look she gave him was unrivaled. He had no time for pettiness right this moment though, so he ignored her. "Their numbers are great; we'll be severely beaten on like this; we need to surround them." He looked back at the men, making a quick assessment.

"The two units with the best mobility should come around from behind them," Tokio beat him to it and now it was his turn to glare "and the one with the most fighting strength should take them head on."

"That's me and Saitou," Toudou offered instantly "we're the spearhead of attack."

"Nagakura and I will overtake them," Okita was quick to add.

"Takeda and Harada will be the support," Saitou ordered, feeling a little left out.

Hijikata nodded in agreement in a split second but only then did they all move to their places. "Men, we're moving!" and "Follow me!" or "Into battle now, with courage" were heard from the captains, trying to render the thundering of the Giants running and roaring as they went as less frightening as possible.

"You," Hijikata turned to Tokio "go at the very back of the fight, taking care of any wounded coming your way."

"That is ridiculous," she protested vehemently "a cleric isn't effective at such a position!"

"You **will** listen to the commands of your superior, priestess."

"I have no—..."

Hijikata and Saitou were glaring at her; she considered. This was a turning point for her place in the unit, she could feel it. She had only two choices really: one was to flaunt in their faces she wasn't inferior to Hijikata-sama in rank and let them deal with the fall out of that revelation while she did what she _knew_ to be the best option, **or** , second choice, she could obey Hijikata-sama, pretend he's higher ranking than her and be a little accepted by the two very rigid men.

She thought fast.

"Putting me there, you doom your unit to more injuries than needed; when you decide to fight efficiently, you'll know where to find me."

She turned her horse around and went at the back without further protest; if the stunned faces of the two were any indication, she was slowly getting there. The moment she reached the back, facing Takeda and his men she jumped of her horse immediately. Staff on her belt, shield at the ready she expected all hell to break loose.

"Here they come men; fight valiantly!" Toudou tried to encourage his men.

"We're better than them and don't you forget." Harada, definitely.

"A samurai can do whatever he sets his mind to." there's Saitou.

"And if any of you get hurt, well, we have a cute healer waiting to heal you at the back so, go all out!"

That damn Okita; she had to smile at his simple-mindedness, as well as most men's, for they all finally roared back at the Giants, katana being drawn instantly. The men around her even snickered and elbowed one another as she shook her head amused. This was it. Her first battle with the unit.

Well, it was only Fire Giants, polearm masters or not. How hard can it be?

Very hard, turned out. Not for her, no; for the men. Too many injured, too many senseless violence. Couldn't they see they needed a system to take one down? Why was it, to her dismay, only Saitou's men seemed to get it? Toudou's men followed their example, after some time and with distaste she realised the unit's progress was directly linked with the captain's ability to discern these things. So, then, Saitou was just that good. Damn it, she had hoped he was all talk but no performance, she could easier disregard him.

But no, the bastard was as skilled as his arrogance made him out to be.

That is to say, the others weren't bad; in fact, in the end they all figured out the system. It just took them twice as long or, in Takeda's case, who almost willingly forwent battle and let his men wildly attack without a plan for a long time, it nearly took them all battle.

But they were victorious. The Giants were defeated without a single death, due to her well-timed interventions no less, and many wounds. "Gather as close around me as possible, as many as you can; no further than two metres."

The turn out was overwhelming, men even slamming into her. Hijikata was almost having a heart-attack, scared she would take it as an insult and nearly struck Saitou and Toudou to go and form a protective circle around her, but in the end, she was unaffected. All she did was bring her hands in front of her chest, fingers interlaced; after a moment, light spread all around her, as far as the farthermost end of the ringer.

That was when all three men, Hijikata, Toudou and Saitou, simply gaped. They watched with unprecedented interest as many of the open wounds on the men's faces, arms and legs simply...disappeared. They left no trace on the skin, as if they were never there. Only the ripped clothes and the drying blood that remained served as evidence something used to be there. They looked at one another dumbfounded. All these...all these wounds they needed so much time to make go away, she, she just...she made them disappear with a single thought.

She took a look around her. "Those who feel almost perfectly well, please leave the circle and let those who didn't make it the first time enter. You," her eyes turned to a man to her left who was ready to exit "absolutely must stay; I can still see the blood flowing, where are you going? And you," she craned her neck to look at the three high ranking men, increasing the volume of her voice "what are you doing just standing there? Come here right now!"

They gave a little collective jump and conformed with her at the same time; for some reason the men parted to allow them closer to her. She rolled her eyes. "So long they are within radius, it doesn't matter where you stand," she explained, a little annoyance slipping in her voice. And yet, they still did it; and these men, trying to be proper, maintained a certain distance from her, in which an entire person could fit, hence healing less than she could. She really wanted to smack the lot of them.

Shaking her head, hands still interlaced in front of her, she performed her magic again and...it was a foreign, but amazing sensation. None of them had been healed by divine magic before, it was so warm, and enveloping...it felt like a hug from something unseen but kind. It brought a relief with it they tasted for the first time.

When they looked back at her and her waning light she saw it in their eyes, the wonder; she grew thoughtful. "Is this really the first time you have had anyone heal you with magical means?" They nodded; she sighed. "This is why I said you don't know how to fight with a cleric in your team; we clerics are far more useful at the front lines, honestly."

"But we have to keep you-"

"—safe, yes, I've heard, vice commander. But that is not the way it goes; everyone always looks to me to keep them safe, in fact, and this role reversal upsets me. If I am not by your side, healing as I go, since that is my role in this expedition, then one of you might eventually die." Realising the rest of the men were still around her, she scolded herself. "Whoever is still feeling hurt please head to the other two healers; they are by the biggest carriage, can't miss them."

"Hijikata-sama," came Takeda's voice from the left "you, too, seem quite hurt; why don't you do as Tokio-sama has asked and head to the two men?"

"Not so fast," she stopped them all from starting an argument "the eight of you the Empress has asked me to take under my direct care." She let that sink in for a moment. "You're all in my charge."

"Oh, how splendid!" Takeda was the first to recover, actually rubbing his hands together. "Then if you'd please take a look at me, Tokio-sama, and my elbow right here; I think I've broken it."

She took exactly one look at it. "It's a just graze." It really was; she even saw it happen, too. "Now that you being fine is established please go and call over Okita-san, Nagakura-san and Harada-san."

"...as you wish, my lady."

She couldn't stop from rolling her eyes at his kiss-ass ways and the three men in front of her found themselves appreciating her a little bit more. "Now, I know you were the essential offense, but how in earth did you get yourselves so beaten? They were just Fire Giants!" She clicked her tongue excessively. "Let me take a look at you; hm...Hijikata-sama, how old are you?"

"Older than you..."

"Not old enough to sport these sort of injuries, though."

She took a deep breath; then her hands moved and they couldn't help but stare; fluidity accompanied her motions, as well as practiced grace; she muttered a couple of words, too and then...touched Hijikata's arm. The difference was obvious: open remaining gushes closed in a flash, his colour got better. His hair seemed to fluff up and...he stared at her. Then at his hand and his shoulder, rolling both. Then back at her.

"H, how did you know...?"

"I didn't, but I noticed when you battled; you favoured your left side although you aren't left handed. I believe only Saitou is left-handed, yes?" He nodded mutely. "So, I figured there was something lingering there. This spell is more advanced and it takes a lot more energy, but it is well worth it; now you are completely healed."

"So I am," he sounded astonished "so it feels." Her smile was genuine. "Once...once you're over with the rest of the men, please come to my tent; we need to discuss battle tactics."

"As you wish."

"You lot can come, too," he added as an afterthought, walking away, looking at his hand like a foreign entity.

Inwardly, her heart ached, but tried not to show it; just what sort of abuse and had these men went through, to become so powerful yet without any real assistance from someone like her? How could they still be _alive_? They must have been extremely enduring, their fortitude impossibly high...

"Heh, would you look at that. You got to him," Saitou said in a very Saitou way, although, the edge was a little rounder this time. She shrugged. "Battle tactics, huh? Next thing you know, you will be swinging that mace around..."

"That is not my function in this assignment; I shall restrain myself to my medical duties, as difficult as it might be." She gave him a wry smile which he returned. "Now, please let me have a look at you."

"Is...is it always like this when you heal us, Tokio-sama?"

"Oh gods, not you, too, Toudou-san; Tokio-san is more than adequate. And yes, it is; all divine spellcasters are using these spells and abilities."

"Not that necessarily, I mean...does it always feel like this? So warm and...all-encompassing."

"For the most part; it depends on the caster and the god they chose to worship. Basically, it's the deity's essence, filtered through me." She gave the two men a long, hard look. "I have no idea how you managed to survive so long without a cleric, honestly. Look at your injuries; without me, it would take you days to recuperate. What if an oni horde decided to attack? You'd be too wounded to properly fight back."

"This is nothing," Saitou finally let out what he'd been meaning to say for so long "we've faced much worse and made it."

"But there's no need to constantly gamble your life, in every battle. Some should be easy." He shrugged. "At least, even you must admit I do have my uses..."

"Alright, I admit; you aren't dead weight. But that's a far cry from actually being a productive member of the uni—...t."

He watched as she repeated the motions for the spell she performed on Hijikata, only him she didn't lightly tap on the arm, no; him she unabashedly slapped right on the bleeding injury near his abdomen. Toudou tried not to laugh; Saitou glared at her innocent look. "I want one of those spells, too, Tokio-san," Toudou commented "though I'd rather a gentle tap on the shoulder."

"Ah, not to worry; you won't need something so drastic." A deliberate pause. "You don't seem to treat your body with the same disdain he does." Her head nodded to Saitou who looked away. "Nor do you, like Hijikata-sama, have to juggle the finances of the unit and forgo treatments so others can afford a shield."

Just as she started performing different motions, just before she touched Toudou, a deafening "Tokio-chan!" made them all wince and a wild Okita ended up receiving the spell in the man's stead, as he tackled her in a smothering hug, preventing her from touching Toudou first.

Dazzled, Okita let go of her and watched his injuries disappear one by one yet all at the same time. "Oh, wow! I can't believe Takeda was right...it's gone. All of it!"

"That's the point of a cleric," she complained for the umpteenth time "why is everyone so amazed by the damn concept? This is one of the most basic spells. What's amazing is you _all_ are still alive after who knows what sort of battles." She had to massage her temples to calm down.

"Just do your job and we'll do ours," Saitou decided to bring this subject to a close.

"It'd be great if you didn't rush into danger first thing, spearhead of the attack or not."

Saitou was truly, honestly, swears to Shizuru, going to leave; but then he heard what she said and every hair on his body stood straight. "Me? _I_ rushed into danger when **you** took off on your horse to get to the damn hill separated from the entire unit!?"

" _It was the right course of action_!"

"Just because it turned out to be in our benefit this once doesn't mean it's right in general."

"Just because you've learnt to operate a certain way, it doesn't mean all other ways are wrong!"

"Oookay, I see you won't agree on this any time soon, so why don't you just heal us, Tokio-chan and argue about this later?"

"I'll gather the horses and then head to Hijikata's tent," Saitou said instead of continuing this any further, sparing everyone the trouble. As he was leaving, the two men noticed the dirty looks the pair exchanged.

Okita sighed. "You know, Tokio-chan, he's not like this, usually; yes, he's confrontational and infuriating but not like that. He always gives credit when credit is due."

She sighed. "He fought me from the moment I got here...now that it turns out I know what I'm doing he'll need time to adjust, I suppose."

The subject wasn't broached further; she simply healed the men in front of her, including those who came a moment later and altogether headed to Hijikata's tent.

.

.

"...why are there are so many people waiting for us?"

Four days later, the warriors' caravan found itself passing through a rather large town. Resupplying and taking care of any damaged armour, that sort of thing; maybe having a drink at a bar, a real bar, with women to make merry. Sleeping on a bed didn't sound all too shabby either. In other words, it was the day the men had to themselves to do nothing but have fun!

So, when they neared the town's entrance and saw a rather large crowd at the gates, cheering and waiting specifically for them, they were at a loss. This was the very first time a large body of people came across them and had a positive reaction.

"We did exterminate a dangerous band of murderous Fire Giants, Harada," Saitou reminded "and then picked off the infuriating tengu who tried to claim the turf as their own, as well as the oni that terrorized the farmers."

"Ha ha, I think we're just not used to people being grateful for our services," Okita excused Sanosuke and almost all the captains laughed.

The tengu ordeal was rather tricky actually; tengu fly. Fire Giants most positively did not. They were fast and slippery, a whole new world of problems. And since they were mostly grounded, it took much more effort than they would have liked or actually had taken them if they didn't fly. In this battle, Tokio had had her way and joined the fray at the first line; she was useful, Saitou hated to admit. She was skilled in her trade, moving gracefully and preventing any serious injuries and rearing in those who tended to forget themselves and maybe tried chasing after the enemy, when that was exactly what the enemy wanted.

And yes, him with his raw strength and fighting prowess and her with her supportive spells and well-timed suggestions, they made a surprisingly effective team. That didn't mean he had to like it...or that they didn't constantly fight about what the other did wrong. Both at the five battles with the tengu and the three with the oni, all in four days, they fought after each and every one.

"You are **not** used to praise from civilians?" she wondered out loud. "But the Empress told me of your record; most of your feats were _for_ the people."

Toudou shrugged. "Apparently they didn't think so."

"And the few instances they did," Nagakura stepped in "some stuck-up snob, usually the lord or a relative, would convince them otherwise."

"So, your real problem is politics," she summed up.

"Bingo!" Okita winked as he talked making her chuckle.

"One more damn reason your presence here feels like a damn trap," Saitou snapped and she didn't find it in her to even glare, so used she'd become to his complaining.

"Well, the court isn't my biggest fan, so your statement doesn't hold water."

He snorted. "Oh please; spoiled, rich little priestess isn't everyone's favourite?"

"Not at all," she calmly elaborated "for my father was one of the most vocal anti-Jade Regent spokespeople; not to mention the Jade Regent basically whisked my brother away to be his "general", killing him in battle a year later, and kidnapped my oldest sister to keep in the capital as a future bride for one of his closest men, or even himself. That was the main reason I was sent to the West, to escape him...he didn't seize our property either, because we were strategically placed, although my father being very vocal about not wanting him at all. So, we ended up as one of the richest most hated families in current court, because all those kiss-ass bastards would bend backwards for the Jade Regent while we never gave in and now carry favour with her Highness." She snorted. "Politics are so dirty and disgusting, I formally asked my father to never leave me as the family's head, should anything happen to him. He accepted and passed it down to Touka; the middle sister—three years older than me," she had to explain.

All the men were looking at her intently; when she realised she blushed furiously, but managed to maintain her cool demeanour. "But what do you care about that? I understand I am more than privileged compared to all of you, my problems must seem laughable."

"Well, not really," Nagakura started "if you were any younger you'd run serious risk of being assassinated; if you were any older, they'd be pressuring you to get married to a noble of their choice."

"Ah, fear not, they already are; but there's no way I am getting married."

Harada snorted with laughter at her absolute refusal. "At all?"

"To a noble of their choosing? Most definitely. To someone, anyone, maybe; but that's a hard maybe. I have many thing I want to accomplish before even considering the potential."

"Like?" Takeda urged her to continue.

She considered. "Well...one of the reasons I so readily accepted the Empress's proposal to come with you to free the land from the oni was because I am also included in the reward; if I survive by the end of the expedition, should it be successful, I shall also be given my own small domain to rule. I have plans to make my own registry among other things, too..."

Saitou was the one surprised the most; how incredibly nontraditional. "But you are a woman; and I thought you said you didn't want to get married; how would you have enough family members to make a registry of your own without procreation?"

"There is adoption."

"But if you are by unmarried, how will you adopt anyone?"

She chuckled. "Are you implying I wouldn't be able to protect anyone who might be adopted in?"

"Well, no; yes." He seemed to be struggling. "How many people are you talking about? There will be servants yes, but age and gender matters."

"Say I adopt five children, no matter the gender; then take in five women; then, five men so the women have husbands or mates; already, there are sixteen people, me included."

"That is highly unorthodox," he commented, genuinely upset.

"So am I," was all she said about it, quite amused, and dropped the subject.

Ten seconds later, they all made a discovery: this was the first conversation these two held without anyone shouting in anyone's face. Then again, he must have been quite shook by the woman's revelations, much like all of them.

When they finally walked through the gates of the town, there was literally a huge crowd to welcome them; women and children of all ages holding flowers and men shouting words of gratitude. It really was something new to them, she could see from their mild panic. Deciding it would be best to handle this herself, she set the pace for everyone by having her horse strut. The crowd started clapping excited so they were satisfied; on the other hand, seeing the horse perform, they stood to the side so they had more room to maneuver. Seeing the end result, all of them decided to do something similar until they reached the stables.

Oh boy. When they dismounted Saitou instantly they never had, because now the crowd _swarmed_ them! Women trying to touch their faces, hands, armour; men trying to congratulate them and sign their whatever; only children escaped his criticism for children were led around by their parents thus those were the ones who he deemed irresponsible. After the initial wave, three more followed much more tame in comparison; it didn't matter, they were already set two entire hours back.

He clicked his tongue, just as the last wave dispersed. "What do all these people want with us, anyway? Didn't we do enough by getting rid of the damn monsters?"

"I know this is a foreign concept to you, my friend," Okita started, hand on his shoulder "but some people just like being social."

"Ridiculous," Harada played along.

"Oh but indeed," Okita continued "they like talking to people; some even enjoy, should I break it to him" he turned to the rest briefly, all theatricality " _group activities_."

Saitou physically shuddered at that, causing Tokio to laugh heartily. "What group activities can you mean, Okita-san?" Nagakura humoured him.

"Why, a lovely young woman just suggested to me I meet her at the local pub tonight at seven, with five more of my friends."

"That is one group activity I would not say no to," Harada made his position clear instantly.

"Aye," Toudou agreed.

When Saitou growled to show his displeasure once more, they all laughed. "Why are you being like that, Saitou-san?" Okita teased.

"Because now you'll force me to come with you and you know I hate people hanging onto me."

"Aw, but you're so tall," Okita lamented and actually jumped on his back.

"and muscular," Harada dragged it on and jumped, too, both grabbing onto him from different places.

"and sturdy. You are made to have people hang onto you, basically. See?"

Without a single shred of shame, Nagakura grabbed him by the middle, too and now Saitou was standing there, looking unamused, with three human beings dangling off of him. Tokio was close to crying from laughter, holding on to her stomach, with Toudou being a close second, whacking Takeda on the back.

"You are all idiots." he stated and went his way...with the three men dangling as he walked. Tokio's chin hang, quite lamely, at the display of strength.

"We may be idiots, but you're so difficult!" Okita accused, never letting go. "Please come with us tonight, we want to meet pretty ladies."

"I don't mind coming, I just hate them touching me; why are they always touching me?"

"They are trying to seduce you, I believe." Harada explained.

"Now as to why any woman would try and seduce _you_ is a mystery."

For the first time ever since she met him, Tokio watched as a teasing smirk crossed his features. "And here I thought you said I was pleasingly tall, muscular and sturdy."

"You're still an asshole though," Toudou could finally string together, wiping away at tears of mirth.

"Meh, women don't care about that if they are only going to have sex with you," Tokio waved all of them away, causing quite a lot of staring, without even realising, as she went back to concerning herself with her horse "which I'm guessing is the goal of these young women who approached you."

"Yeah," Okita admitted through a disbelieving laugh, driving himself to let go and finally stand on the ground again, just so he could elbow the man closest to him, which turned out to be Nagakura, who followed his example. "Why would you ask a bunch of strangers to drink with you and your friends otherwise?"

"Exactly; so who cares?" She turned to look at them and saw their I'm-about-to-burst-out-laughing-because-of-the-implications expressions and turned beet red. "Th, though I cannot say I speak out of p-personal experience, just things I noticed; and I'm not being judgmental even, each h-h-h-her own."

"Right," Toudou barely reared in the laugh "and what's yours?"

Every visible part of her was such a deep red, they started thinking she was going to have a heart attack. "Ah, ah, I prefer to focus on my craft, mostly. I d-don't have the time for distractions..."

"Hahaha, men are distractions, hear that guys?" Harada couldn't help it and started laughing.

"At least we found one thing you and Saitou agree on: romance is a distraction." Toudou turned to him. "Isn't that how you put it, too?"

"And I stand by it still."

"S-s-s-sure; I'll just go now..."

They allowed her the privacy to leave alone, and feel as mortified as she wanted all by herself, but they still watched her retreat with amusement. "Awwwww, she's so cute," Okita finally cooed once she was gone in the stable to talk to the people there "she was blushing and everything."

"Well, she's still a woman;" Nagakura reminded "we tend to forget because she's always in that armour."

"Remind me to tease her again tomorrow, as we leave," Okita addressed everyone "I really want to see her blush again."

"She was pretty cute, indeed," Toudou agreed and the two men wiggled their eyebrows.

"She's also very rich and unattainable," Takeda chose to comment on purpose, deflating them "and quite prudent, so what do you hope will happen? Simply because she was humbled during a very big part of her life, doesn't mean she's any less out of reach for you."

"I hope all they serve you tonight is bad sake, spoilsport" Okita snubbed and took off.

The rest followed closely, but Saitou was left last; what Tokio had said earlier on the horses, really surprised him. She wasn't as spoiled as he had originally thought nor as clueless of the world and the politics in it; hell, he could even say, as Nagakura pointed out, her life must have been in danger at some point, with almost certainty. Not to mention their opinions on certain things were very similar—or how they could fight so well when paired together. But...but she was still _her,_ with her unconventional dreams and nontraditional way of thinking.

And he refused to believe he had been so wrong about a woman again—he didn't even listen to his instinct when he first laid eyes on her, just the logical part of his mind. After all, his instinct had led him very wrong once, when women were concerned, so he only trusted his logic. And his logic was warning him against this woman at every single turn damn it, instinct nonwithstanding.

.

.

"Hey, isn't that the woman that's traveling with you?"

"Humph, no wa—...oh wait."

Okita, and every man at the table with him, had to look twice at the woman that just walked in, headed straight for the far corner of the bar. It couldn't be Tokio...could it? This woman had long black hair, reaching all the way to her lower back; her lips looked too red, though they could tell no paint was involved. Her kimono was plain, no design on it whatsoever, but its colour was a rich, beautiful emerald green, with a golden, wide sash as an obi to hold it all together. The shoulders were slightly exposed but they could see that was the design of the dress.

And yet, when they looked at the woman's features, it was unmistakably Tokio's oval-shaped face, framed by her bangs, eyes that same curious black.

"It...is her," Nagakura drawled, surprised; the men looked at one another with the same expression. "What is she doing here?"

"Having a drink?" Toudou's designated date, a lovely brunette, answered naturally.

"Yeah but I thought she said men are distractions," Harada muttered but his own date clicked her tongue.

"Men **are** distractions but a drink is relaxing; we should invite her come sit with us!"

"No," came Saitou's immediate rejection. His expression was unreadable till now, but his tone was unmistakable. "She can have her drink separately."

"Aw, but look at her," his own date tried to make him see reason "sitting there all by herself, poor thing."

"There's no way she didn't see us when she came here and yet she chose the bar;" conveniently leaving out how he was amost agressive to her to deter her to join "everyone just go back to your drinks." Also, it was the fact they were on a collective date, so her approaching on her own could be seen as her trying to ruin their chances. Thankfully, no one pointed that out, too.

"So mean," Okita's date, the cutest out of all, commented.

"So be it."

Despite being the one who'd urged everyone to pay her no attention, it was him who kept looking at her from time to time, as if ascertaining her place. First time he looked, she nursed a drink; second time, she was sniffing a bite of the plate of food in front of her. She had struck up conversation with the middle aged bartender meanwhile, probably complimenting him on the food, because she kept pointing down to it. It wasn't too long a man went to join her, not one from the unit though, a local. She was conversational at first, but soon enough, he saw her eyes harden and quite absolutely drive the man away.

The second man approached her easier, and she even laughed. It wasn't unguarded, like today when they were joking by the horses, but it was genuine. And yet, that man left, too although nearly as fast or disappointed as the first. He was trying to catch her in a lie, throw in her face she claimed one thing but did another, but she seemed to be really introverted.

Then the bartender passed her a drink, looking perplexed; she sniffed it again. With a thoughtful look on her face, she drank the entirety of the mug in one gulp! Turns out he wasn't the only one looking, because gasps were heard from the men and women all around him at that. Then she gracefully put it down, searching for the one who gave it. When she spotted him, she stood up, took the mug to him and poured the man's drink in it. For some reason, she took out her flask, the one she kept all her dangerous ingredients and poured three drops in. With unparalleled determination, she banged the mug on the table in front of the guy and told him emotionless:

"Now _you_ drink it."

The man remained there, looking speechless. "What, you passed me a spiked drink without even telling me it was drugged. At least I had the courtesy to do it to your face. But I drank the thing, didn't I? Now it's your turn; drink."

"Uh, I don't know what-?"

"Did you think I would miss the distinctive asphodel essence scent simply because it's a western plant?" The man started to shrink into himself. "And if you want proof—turn out your pockets. And your satchel, see if that'll turn out any suspicious empty vials."

"Uh, I, uh..."

"Do it now and I won't force you to drink _all_ of that." she briefly nodded to the half-pint he'd put in front of him.

Then, it finally clicked in the guy's head, and he slowly tied his arms in front of his chest in defiance. "But if I had really spiked your drink how come you're fine after drinking all of it, huh?"

"Because petty poisons such as these don't work on someone like me." Every word coming out of her mouth was drawn out, dangerous, threatening; staring straight into the guy's eyes she leaned forward, nodding towards the drink one last time. "But now we get to test _your_ tolerance. Didn't anyone ever tell you to never serve someone something you can't take?"

The man started sweating; his eyes went from the drink to her pouch, drink to her pouch, drink to her pouch... "Alright, I admit, I did it; don't make me drink that thing, please, I'm sorry."

Saitou tried to get up out of his chair and all but march down the guy and grab him be the neck; Okita shared a similar feeling and both were ready to pounce, had Nagakura and Toudou respectively not held them back, with quite the effort. All the women present in the pub simply clapped their hands over their mouths.

But Tokio deescalated the entire situation with a derisive snort. "You're not worth the effort." Unceremoniously, she grabbed the tankard and emptied all of its contents on his head. The man involuntarily twitched and tried to evade, but it was no use; everyone's laughter followed, and just like that they were forgotten. "But, if I were you, I'd go shower _right now_ ," she gave a final warning and walked away and back in her seat.

"Hmm, you didn't want her around but look at you, first out of your chair," his attractive date commented, not a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"Just because I don't particularly like her, doesn't mean anyone is allowed to do anything like that to her—to anyone for that matter."

"You're so ethical," Nagakura's date said through giggles.

"She's also a comrade," Okita stated absolutely.

"That's right; you mess with one, you mess with all of us."

"Ooooh, how noble."

"Just go back to your drinks, show's over," Saitou reminded everyone but his eyes lingered on Tokio as she sat back in her chair, accosted by the bartender who looked mortified – and must have apologised a thousand times – and even brought her more food, seeing she'd finished her plate. A man had just admitted spiking her drink and she had obviously drank the entire thing without a single side-effect. How the hell? Even him, well, not him, maybe Harada. Even Harada would have been affected by that. And yet, she remained perfectly sober, not even a sway in her step.

Incredible.

As the end of the date-night was fast approaching, seeing Okita had already left with the woman on his arm, and Toudou had just announced doing the same, the woman on his arm turned to him. "I'm guessing you do not wish to follow your friends' example, yes?"

"Indeed."

"Don't worry, I figured from the moment you walked in; I chose to sit next to you because of it. I only came for my friends' sake as well."

"That's a relief," he admitted, tone no longer guarded. "Do you want me to walk you home? After what happened with _her_ , I feel it would be irresponsible to leave you here."

"Oh my, what a gentleman! I'd love to."

After they announced their plans to the rest at the table, they left; he caught Tokio's eyes following them to the exit; he decided to ignore it. "Thinking about it, maybe you should come back for her, too. She's already been targeted once."

"Actually, I was going to."

She giggled. "If I may, Hajime-san, you don't seem too convincing when you say you don't like her."

He rolled his eyes. "To allow anyone, especially a woman, be harmed because of my very biased opinion on them is wrong. Now stop talking about it or I'll throw you over my shoulder and you won't be able to talk anyway."

The woman laughed at his "threat" and immediately changed topics.

.

"Missy, this is the fourth drink you're having, five if one counts the spiked one; maybe you should slow down."

"I've been here more than two hours, it's normal; plus, I've been eating plenty! It isn't getting to me."

"Then something else is...I can see how your mirth is a little forced."

Caught off guard that he'd picked up on that, she reddened dramatically. "I, it's nothing, just...you know, these men and I are in the same unit, but not one of them came to sit next to me; or invite me to their table. I feel a little unwelcome."

"They are all men, right? I'd be a little careful, too if I were them."

"But half the men in this bar are comrades; not one came..."

"Aw, cheer up; do you want me to tell my wife to bring you more food? I'll have her make her signature sandwich."

The prospect of more food made her heart flutter; "yes please! She cooks wonderfully."

It hadn't been more than five seconds the sandwich was delivered in front of her that she took the first bite; hmmm, it was so savory and delicious and that sauce they used to flavour it was heaven! Food did make her heart relax, after all. She could have ten more of these with ease!

"Be prepared, be prepared," the bartender whispered in her direction suddenly "one of the men who were here came back, coming straight for you."

She had to fight with herself not to turn around and see who it was, but if he was coming to her, she'd find out soon enough. Deciding to take a bite, she almost chocked when she heard that absolute and crisp "you," that only one man could produce, and only when it had to do with her:

Saitou.

She coughed a little, but swallowed. Her eyes expressed surprise."Why are you here?"

"Get up, we're leaving."

"Pardon? Why!?"

"It's late and someone already tried to poison you. We all need the sleep, too."

"B, but I just got my sandwich; and it's delicious."

"I don't care." It did look very good though.

"Neither do I, then." She blew air out of her nose. "Why are you here anyway? Didn't you leave with that cute girl?"

"I walked her home not that's that any of your business" oh no she'd said that out loud!? "and now I'm back to do the same for you, especially since your room is next to mine."

Her cheeks burnt red. "I can take care of myself; and I'm not going anywhere before I eat my delectable food."

"Fine," he said then, in a rare show of compromise "we'll stay here till the sandwich is eaten."

"Great!" She took a large – for her standards bite – and savoured it. He could see she meant to do that for every bite, too; giving him a big smile, she put the food on her plate and reached for her beer. But that was her biggest mistake because Saitou picked the damn thing up without hesitation and gobbled it down in three bites. She watched with horror as it was being devoured with her chin hanging.

"M-my sandwich!"

"There, it's finished; can we go now?"

"You ate my sandwich!"

"Well, it did look tasty; and I was very hungry; besides, you eat like a rabbit, we'd be here all night. Now move; a deal's a deal."

As she begrudgingly stood, leaving coin to the bartender for all of her orders, she started muttering "I can't believe you just ate my food like that" and "what an animal" as well as other accusations; it inwardly made him smirk. It was a funny situation after all, and if only the remaining assholes at his table – meaning Harada and Takeda – could stop staring so incredulously would be great.

The entire walk back to their inn was silent, save for her scattered protests and her dubbing him "the fearsome food thief". "We're here _priestess_ ," he pointed out the obvious as they reached their doors, which were literally directly next to one another. Who had thought of putting them so close, he had no idea but if he ever found him, he'd regret it.

"I can see that, _food thief_."

"We meet at the stables tomorrow morning at eight; don't oversleep or we're leaving without you."

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

"I don't know, you ate and drank a little too much."

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Bringing that up, how the hell can you be okay? He admitted he poisoned you!"

For the first time in their acquaintance, he was truly curious about her; and for the first time, she looked arrogant, eyebrows raising in challenge. "I just have a naturally high tolerance, cultivated from experiences, from before we ever met."

"...that sounds like a very roundabout way to say "wouldn't you like to know?", if I'm not mistaken."

"According to you, you never are." He glared; she chuckled. "Have a nice night, Saitou-san."

Just as she was about to leave, he grabbed her arm, effectively stopping her from opening the door. Her eyes snapped to his a little alarmed, but not fearful; there was something so open in her expression, he felt a little self-conscious. "All I care to know is if it's something that could come bite us in the ass later, that's it; I'm not trying to pry into your personal life."

"..." She weighed the truthfulness of his words with his actions; she had some sort of bullshit detector built in and, watching his eyes intently, she could safely say he was being honest. She smiled, looking down. "I am quite resilient to most things; I acquired this certain ability through countless battles mostly and that's the entire truth."

"So, you're telling me you've been exposed to much worse stuff and survived thus built a tolerance for it?" She winked and pointed at him with her free hand at the same time. "...like what?"

"Oh, that's a very long story, and if you're truly worried about making it on time tomorrow, I suggest we save this conversation for another time."

He gave her a long, hard look. He was going to say yes, he knew that much, but for some reason, the sudden mystery compelled him; he wanted to know _now_. It wasn't as late as he made it out to be, he could last with a couple of less hours of sleep. He only had to push a little and he was sure she'd give in. But something kicked internally; the thought of him joining her in her personal room, dressed as she was, for whatever reason, felt inappropriate. And if anyone happened to catch a glimpse of it, what would they think? Not that he'd do anything, naturally, but...and that but made him hesitate.

"Very well; but now I'm curious." She nodded gracefully; he grimaned because he thought she was trying to evade him. "You won't get out of this conversation, I'm quite stubborn."

"Last I checked, it's you who keeps avoiding me like the plague." He swallowed his words at that, unable to counter her honesty. "And now, if you're kind enough, let go of me, I think I'm starting to bruise." A chuckle. "Quite a grip you have there."

Was he still grabbing her? How uncouth; and how weird, he swore he let go of her the moment she answered him. "Forgive me, Tokio" that was spoken with utter honesty and let her go as cordially as possible "have a good night."

He failed to notice her brighter cheeks at the casual way he said her name; this was the first time he ever called her by her name, too and it sounded so natural. She inclined her head, to hide her increasing colour. "You, too, Hajime."

She turned about and closed the door without sparing him a single glance; shrugging, unaware of her internal struggle, he walked into his room, too. Although, the way she squeaked out his name was very cute.

* * *

 **A/N** : Second chapter done; two more coming on this, I believe. Please tell me your thoughts, I'm always eager to know what my readers think.

Love you huns, many hugs and kisses,  
FAI~~


	7. The Priestess and the Grump, Part three

**A/N** : Good lord, this has been a wild ride. I've been writing non-stop, my wrist hurts like a bad bitch but I wrote a whooping 18.000 words in two days brah, how? Inspiration, you know? Crazy. Well, it still hurts a lot and I need to wear my hand othesis but at least I no longer move huge boxes around, the reason I got worse on the first place.

Anywho, this is the next part of the story. It's huge, I know, but it needed to be. This had to get out in one chapter, to be cohesive. I could devide it into two and make this a five or six-parter but this way the plot is better served I think. And due to worries about size, I didn't finish my previous story the way I wanted, so I'm still bitter about that, too. Sorry.

So, huge chapter ahead, I think the biggest one I have ever written. But don't be intimidated by it lovelies, it really reads well, effortlessly, too. I hope you enjoy it~!

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

"Where the _hell_ have you been?"

Tokio looked back over her shoulder more than a little surprised to hear these words leave Saitou's lips, out of anyone's; not the swearing part though, that made sense. But the annoyance, the worry and impatience were all there; how odd.

"What in earth?"

Just as Okita, who was standing next to him, tried to explain, he started talking again, in that same exasperated tone. "We were looking for you everywhere! Went to the blacksmiths, already left; went back to the stables, not a trace; took a look at the tavern, nowhere to be found."

"Then maybe you should have asked Hijikata-sama."

His eyes became smaller. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ever since he decided we should be making regular stops along the towns we pass by, I make it a point to help people in need, a fact I have made him aware of an entire month ago. Hence, I have been, for the past hours, tending to the sick of this lovely town."

He looked completely taken aback, as Okita looked impressed. "Way to go, Tokio-chan."

"Why?"

She laughed disbelieving. "What do you mean, why?" Suddenly her face became thunderous. "If you start going on about resources, I swear to god, I won't hesitate to punch you—they come directly from my pocket so I take no shit from anyone about how I spent them. My money, my rules. Or do you think all of the services I provide are paid by the unit's funds alone?" She snorted. "Please, you'd all be dead by now." The two men gaped at her honesty. She shook her head. "Sorry I came off a little aggressive, Hijikata hadn't been accepting at first. I didn't want a repeat..."

"But why?" Saitou simply repeated, confused as ever.

"Because that's what I do." He didn't seem any less confused "That's what clerics do, help people." He still didn't seem able to process it. "Know how you instinctively reach for your sword whenever you see an ogre? It's the same, only I reach for my pouch when I see sick people; I like helping, that's all." He remained staring at her, slightly unfocused; her eyebrows came together, concerned. "Okita-san, I think I broke him."

The short man burst out in laughter, as Saitou finally collected his wits. "That's..." _amazing_ , his brain completed, but he dared not compliment her out loud "irrelevant," he finally made up his mind "and it's actually Hijikata who asked us to find you."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes dramatically at that, she simply followed their lead. Heading back to the stables, they took their horses and headed to their camp.

But "camp" was a poor way to describe it; it wasn't an exaggeration to say their encampment resembled a village of tents, actually, with a solid structure plan. At the core of the "village", naturally, stood the commander's tent, more imposing than everyone's, that also served as a command centre - currently just as a command service, due to Kondou's absence – ; next to it, naturally was the vice-commander's. Both were deep red, to stand apart both in size and importance. There was a little circular path around them, which felt a lot like a moat without any water or depth, after which the captains' tents stood, proud and cerulean, a lighter hue of blue than one would expect. They were bigger than the rest forty-something tents all around them.

And that was only the ones they slept in. There were more to go around, like the one that served as an armoury, another as a hospital, a mess hall...for men on the road, they certainly allowed themselves relevant luxury.

Of course, the biggest tent wasn't Kondou's, no; the biggest tent was way off centre, a little remote, in all its emerald glory. In fact, the colour of the tent was the same green as the jade on the Empress's throne. It was rather spacious and the only one that was a circle in shape: eight by eight metres, it stood to three metres height, the tent of their cleric, Takagi Tokio. The actual hospital tent wasn't that one either, to excuse the size. That was at the right, immediately as you reached the complex of tents. On the left was the pen for the horses and the first place the three headed to leave their horses to rest and eat.

Then, they continued to the very core, entering the command centre, only to be greeted by a very displeased Hijikata, who was all but tapping his foot on the floor. "What took you so long?"

"You didn't tell us Tokio was going around performing acts of kindness to the townspeople, Hijikata-sama!" Okita informed a little too cheery.

"You hadn't noticed yet? Where do you think she disappeared to for so long?"

Saitou sighed, pushing through all the stupidity. "Why do you need us, Hijikata?"

"I'm leaving for a while," he went straight to the point, earning himself surprised faces "and I want you three to split my duties between yourselves. Well, not exactly. Saitou, you are to act as vice-commander in my stead, undertaking full responsibility for the unit both at war and peacetime."

The proud man felt his chest puff up involuntarily, despite fully realising how much of a burden this was for now both natural commanders of the unit would be absent.

"Tokio, as far as you're concerned...I know your actual rank in this mission is the same as mine. Although you have deliberately never overruled any of my decisions, I wholeheartedly ask you not to do the same with Saitou, if you feel it is a matter of life and death or he's making a catastrophic choice. But only then."

Saitou barely managed not to look stupid at the revelation, but Okita didn't; they had no idea. Their eyes slowly turned to the woman then, fearing she'd be over the moon, but, in a strange turn of events, she was actually concerned. "Of course, knowing you, you will have an opinion about everything, but please try to reign it in. And you, Okita," Hijikata sighed "you have the most important duty of all."

There was a pause, the older man building the tension on purpose. "You have to be the mediator between them."

Okita's face fell; Hijikata appeared sympathetic. Unexpectedly, both parties involved shook with repressed laughter.

"You're so screwed," Saitou almost whispered through his mirth and Tokio couldn't help but nod repeatedly.

"You are," the vice-commander admitted but cleared his throat immediately. "This goes in affect tomorrow at eight in the morning, when I shall take my leave. I am expected to be back the day we depart; in case I am not back by then, you have my permission to pack up and go anyway. If, for any reason, you decide leaving is more dangerous due to some unforeseen event, you are allowed to overrule my current decision."

"Yessir," they chorused.

"Any questions?"

Okita raised his hand. "Should Saitou take your tent?"

"Yes, it'd be better that way."

Okita spoke again. "Should I take over Saitou's unit?"

"No need," Saitou answered for himself.

"What if we must reach a serious diplomatic decision while you're away?"

Heh, nothing escaped that woman; he had no idea how he found out, but he was going to attend a meeting of the local lords and some representatives of the capital – but not the Empress herself – to decide what their official purpose as a unit was. "I trust the three of you to make an informed decision." She seemed satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No, sir."

"You are dismissed."

Okita looked between the two now basically in charge. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, this spelled trouble any way you looked at it. He sighed for these two were already sizing each other up. How was he ever going to mediate _that_?

.

Upon finding out, congratulations to the captain flew out of everyone's mouths as well as encouraging pats on the back. Tokio was brushed aside completely, consciously or not, but she hadn't particularly minded, she was allowed to go to her tent in peace. She needed her rest tonight. Going to bed a little earlier wouldn't hurt...although she did burn with desire to go to town with the rest. Apparently, the entire unit, all sixty something, doctors included, would go to the bar to celebrate the promotion of one of their own. But, sadly, as that first night they had found themselves at a pub, every time she joined them, they all kept their distance. As of yet, not one single individual had invited her to their table or pproached; only Okita had gone to her, once or twice.

But not more than that and never did they ask her to go to the captain's table. She was always alone. She did promise herself though, not to be discouraged; maybe one more night out all by herself, wasn't as terrible as she made it out to be. She'd be surrounded by familiar faces anyway. It wouldn't hurt any more than it already did...right?

 _Wrong_ ; watching everyone make merry with their new acting vice-commander, while completely forgetting about her, felt like shit. And that bastard made it none easier, showing he was acutely aware of her presence the entire time, simply not caring to ask her to join...although she was still higher ranking than him. But she wasn't petty; she asked the barmaid to take him a drink, ego be damned. He nodded to her in thanks as he drank it but other than that, did nothing else.

Asshole.

Next morning was harder; she had no headaches or a need to throw up, like most of the men did – she could really hold her liquor – but she had to contend with almost every single person calling Saitou vice-commander thus granting him all the importance he had already bestowed upon himself. She could feel her brow twitch in ten minutes flat. Well, that was quite alright; she was strong, she'd shoulder this, too. She only needed to go into town and take care of her patients and she'd forget herself in no time.

That tactic had worked well for the first few days; but the time to depart had arrived and Hijikata was nowhere to be found. Only his letter was, advising them to leave and he'd meet them next week. Gritting their teeth, they did so and continued packing their things. They were gone in three hours.

After that, they recommenced their trip to even norther places, just as they had decided on that first meeting. The route they were following was the exact one, in fact...but where there had once been luscious forests now only stood dying greenery or destroyed settlements. The more they ascended, the bigger the disaster. Tokio was a naturally compassionate person that earned men's favour usually, but after with her daily stops to help the people she saw and _couldn't just leave there,_ as they'd wanted her to, she had garnered a lot of complaints. Not only was she setting them back, she was forcing them to wallow in self-pity and horrible scenery every single day: burnt or uprooted trees; demolished buildings; barren land where once used to be rice fields; and of course, death and devastation no matter where they looked.

What...what in earth had caused all of this? This scale of destruction, only natural disasters left behind, but the people Tokio treated would only talk about "the apex of all their sins", "the monument to their debauchery"; a creature so horrible to behold the sky went dark and everything around them shook; it would split the heavens and burn their houses. And, it was all their fault: the deeds they committed while the Jade Regent was still in power, came back to haunt them.

There even used to be a city half the size of Kasai around, one that was very pro-Jade Regent, but now only ashes remained.

They eventually saw it, too; it was a vast place, filled with nothing but half-burned, half-knocked down structures that once served as houses, city hall, hospital...all was destroyed. But the biggest loss of all was _the people_ ; in such a densely populated city, only one fifth was left behind; a whooping eighty per cent had disappeared, gone with the wind and the hideous creature.

The men felt humbled; the doctors desperate; and Tokio... _furious_. It was lucky this all coincided with them finally camping somewhere—the devastation would serve as a motivator.

"Whatever this is, we need to track it down and kill it," was the eventual decision the "council" reached.

The council consisted of the six captains, with Saitou having the final and decisive word; Tokio never participated, they simply told her the conclusion they'd come to. If she agreed, she allowed them to proceed; if not, she threw her own idea and if it was already discussed but dismissed, they'd try to reason with her. If she insisted, they'd reach a compromise. If the idea she presented though was new, Saitou would think about it and act accordingly. So far, the score was council 10 - Tokio 3.

So, when Saitou came to announce their decision to her, she readily agreed.

"Really?" She nodded grimly. "I expected you to be against it, not knowing what we're dealing with."

"Whatever this is, it's been _decimating_ these northern parts; I have no idea where it came from, but I swear to God, I will do whatever I can to find out and send it back."

"You're upset."

She decided not to comment ; after all, her outward calm demeanour was a little misleading, so she deflected. "What did Hijikata's letter say?"

"Due to whatever it is that's attacking, the meeting has been postponed and the lords are trying to throw together a task force. He, too, expressed the sentiment for us to act."

"But he's already higher than us; so is the creature and the task force they are putting together; I think, whatever this is, they'll run into it first. For the sake of the people, I hope they can contain it but—..."

She forced her face into a neutral expression, drawing a deep breath. "All we can do is hope right now; it'll take us a while to find it."

He looked at her for a long time. There was something there that bothered him. "There's something you're not telling me." She looked away in discomfort and he knew he was right. "Tokio...!"

"If this thing is so powerful it resembles a force of nature, I don't know how effective that team will be; or our own team, even." She looked at him square in the eye with more severity than ever before. "We mustn't take the rest of the men with us. A team of six will be ideal. Yes, I said it right, not seven; if we bring Takeda and count on him when forming a plan but he skips, we are done for."

"But if we leave to face that creature alone, the unit stays without command. And no, I shall not pass my duties over to the snake."

"That is a legitimate concern; maybe if we allow him to simply enforce our orders?"

"You know he'll get advantage of it anyway."

"Is this anytime for selfishness?"

"I don't want the unit to dissolve because of him."

She found it in herself to chuckle. "We can march only when we are certain of its position and leave Takeda in charge for mere hours. No matter what, someone will come back till midday, to take over command; you don't mind Okita or Toudou leading in your stead for a while, yes?"

"...no," he decided. His eyes slid to her. "But why not you?"

She glared. "Oh yeah, boot the cleric from the party, the _sole_ magic user, how insightful." He gave her a look. "Besides, I might not look like it, but I can fight. _Really_ fight."

He stared at her for a long time; dependable, peaceful Tokio wasn't in the habit of lying or agreeing to senseless violence, so if for any reason she was sent back, she would not appreciate it at all. He naturally had to be the vanguard of the attack as he was the best fighter out of the five, with Okita a close second. Then Toudou, then Nagakura and in the end Harada. That is to say, they were all exceptionally gifted, but between the five, that was the order. So, Okita was out of the question; so was Toudou; Harada would hurt less, in terms of strength, but Nagakura was the most gifted as far as leadership was concerned.

He sighed.

"It will be Nagakura," he finally decided and felt like the weight of the entire world just settled on his shoulders "if it comes to that."

"I approve of this choice." Hers, too. They looked at one another for a long time. "May Qi Zhong and Shizuru be with us."

She needed to pray and pray a lot. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd be able to have her questions answered; she just needed a lot of expensive incense and holy water, but gladly, she had both.

.

Saitou was a very calm man, who rested heavily on routine to get through each day; and right now, eleven am, it was nearly time to sleep. Eight hours of uninterrupted rest and he would be up and about tomorrow early enough to train without people around to annoy him. But just as he was settling down, determined to face the next day with as much as optimism as he could, the door of his tent flew up in the air!

So did his nerves. "What?" came his snippy response instantly, but he was almost knocked down when Tokio all but invaded his field of vision – and personal space – and grabbed the collar of his kimono.

She looked like she had just come to a groundbreaking revelation, eyes wild and hands shaking. She too was wearing nothing but her sleepwear – a very basic kimono – hair a regular mess. He stared, a little worried.

"I don't know exactly what we're dealing with and it's gonna be a colossal problem but I know where to find it!"

She shook him as she spoke, letting go a little indelicately when she turned around to reach the maps. Slightly stunned, he reached for the candle – forgoing the lamp because he had no intention of anyone seeing Tokio in his tent – and offered some light. "It's only half an hour worth the trip on horseback from where we are!" Her finger traveled from their spot on the map to a village called _Hiroaka_. "It's going to be there in two days from now and we can finally face it."

"How can you possibly know that?"

She pretended she never heard his question. "I also know the lords' attack force failed; they went today, they were all killed. Hijikata's letter reached us too late; the man himself is safe though."

"But how-?"

"We **have** to do this; and we have to do it right: on the second day, we ride out and reach the village; tomorrow, we sent Okita and Nagakura as scouts; then we're all set."

"Alright, I agree; but how did you come by this information?"

She looked to the left; she looked to the right; then down and finally massaged her temples. "If I tell you, you have to promise you'll believe me." A pause and a look. "And maybe keep it to yourself."

That was never a good sign. "Go on..."

"I've...been speaking with divine beings; they answered my questions as best as they could and this is what I got out of them. They can only answer in yes or no format, see, hence I couldn't accurately determine the type of creature that's been wreaking havoc."

"You were right not to tell me," he deadpanned "that sounds ridiculous."

"Aaaaah, I knew you wouldn't believe me! But it's the truth, I swear; please, we have to act. We have to reach it by the day after tomorrow or who knows how many more people will meet tragic ends? And...and we might die, too, I warn you; some of us may fall. But I think I can do damage-control."

"One of us for all of that is a small price to pay; even if it was me that got killed, I wouldn't mind. That's not what I fear." He looked at her for a long time. "But if I listen to you and it turns out to be just mad ravings, we'll have lost precious time."

"I am positive it will be there."

Ten seconds; that's how long it took him to incline his head in compliance and it felt like an eternity; but when he did, she honestly, actually wrapped her hands around his middle in a surprise hug and squeezed! "You will not regret this, I swear."

Was it his idea or was he feeling discomfort from her pressure? She was kind of strong, huh? "R, right...relax." He awkwardly stroke her back once or twice otherwise she would never let go of him, as he blew out the candle at the same time. And yet, it didn't bother him as much as it was mostly his brain screaming "this is so easy to be misinterpreted" that caused him to panic the little he did. "And go to sleep; it's late. You need the rest as much as any of us."

"I know, forgive me," she actually bowed "but I had to make sure you agreed to this; I didn't want to say it in front of the others, too they tend to be immature."

She wasn't wrong; and making someone feel good about themselves was always a great way to seal the deal, he had to hand it to her. "Don't worry about it; I won't change my mind." Her smile was appreciative. "It's not like they have much choice either."

A chuckle. "Too true, acting commander."

A small smirk escaped him. " _Vice_ -commander."

Her eyebrows rose. "But I thought you were filling in for Hijikata-sama."

Inside jokes never went unappreciated; he smirked in his usual arrogant way and shook his head. "You can leave now, shadow commander." Her laughter was immediate but silent, recognising the need for stealth at this time of night. "And next time you decide to storm my tent, please choose to wear something else."

Even in the dark, he could see how her cheeks dusted with pink, looking at herself critically; big deal, she was wearing a red, silk kimono robe. "I had no mind _or_ time to change to deliver these extremely important news to you."

"It's your reputation on the line if anyone sees you," _so, I'm making you a favour telling you_ , was implied.

"Have a pleasant evening, Hajime," she bid goodbye all proper and superior.

And just as suddenly as she came, she left. Although he wasn't expecting that to be the case, sleep came hard after that; somehow, he could still feel the soft fabric grazing his fingertips. How strange; it had never happened to him before.

When the men heard of his decision the next day, he wished he hadn't had trouble sleeping. The entire goddamn unit had something to say about it! None could contradict him - Saitou did rule with an iron fist and the way he thundered them, made all talks stop - but it didn't stop them from complaining to others about it. Even rumours started flying all over the place, most of them included Tokio and how she must have strong-armed him into this uncharacteristic decision. There's strength in numbers, they would champion, and value in seniortiy, hence it was ridiculous the newcomer would go on this quest rahter than one of them.

So, it was no surprise that not long after eight, once their official duties for the day had ended, two dozen men approached Saitou in his tent. There were too many of them to fit in the thing, and yet, they crowded him. He groaned internally; this was a bad omen for tomorrow.

"What do you want?"

"Sir, we are officially petitioning you to let us fight at your side."

"There are some dangers better faced with only a few people, Daichi," he retorted.

"Sir," the same one continued, one from Saitou's sub-unit, too "we must feel useful somehow."

"Then, tomorrow morning, you are allowed to help with rescue efforts in the neighbouring villages, or stop poachers and black marketeers."

"That is not the duty we were looking for!"

"But it is the one you're assigned; why not help if you'll be confined here anyway?"

As if he'd said the one thing they were expecting to prove their point, the men looked between themselves. The one next to Daichi urged for him to go on, and only then did he take a deep breath, bracing himself, and continued: "Sir, with all due respect, the words coming out of your mouth make you sound more like Tokio-sama than you."

Saitou stared, face taking a very severe expression; had they just implied that she was influencing him? He was sitting down until that very moment, but that sentence compelled him to stand to his full height, as straight as he possibly could, intimidating everyone around. "Tomorrow morning the six of us shall head out and the rest of you will stay here. If I hear even one of you left this caravan for anything other than aforementioned reasons, I will personally see to it that this person faces me in a one-on-one, _no bars held_ , duel. Do you understand?"

Daichi had difficulty swallowing then; the rest simply shook a little. "Now, what do you do tomorrow?"

"Help with rescue efforts or handle small-scale scuffles, sir! Or stay put."

"Exactly. You may go now. And don't ever let me hear you speak that drivel you were spouting earlier again."

Of course, the threat lost its weight when at the exact same moment Tokio walked in, map in hand. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose so hard right now...! At least she was fully armoured this once.

"We-..." She noticed the inordinate amount of people glare at her and stopped to return a confused look. "Why are there so many people in here?" They were about to leave, too, but her arrival stopped them.

"They came to express their disappointment with their appointed duties."

"And what exactly do you think is unfair to you?"

"We want to participate, not sit back and let you risk your lives for us; we aren't useless. We want to fight this thing with you!"

"And you will, in your own way." He was having none of it. "Not all assignments fit all people."

He clicked his tongue. "That is sophistry."

Oh no.

He must have said something wrong, because for the first time in their lives, they watched a woman take such a deep breath; her own impatience was reaching unfathomable levels and whatever this thing was, it was getting to her the most, even if she didn't let others see it—others than Saitou anyway. Then her vein twitched and she was barely holding back the storm but when his challenging expression never changed, she finally had enough.

"If you think swarming this certain target will render it useless, you could not be further from the truth. All your presence will accomplish is waste and split my efforts in many more people than needed." She appeared calm but she almost spat her words. "Also, an enemy that outclasses you by this much, will kill you instantly; now, I'm not in the habit of demoralising troops but at the same time, I am not in the habit of making stupid decisions, either." She tied her hands in front of her chest, tapping her foot. "Go take a look outside the tent, oh wise one," she snubbed, pretense of civility gone with the last shred of her calm "did it look like all those men that banded together made any difference? Or you are under the impression that so many villages, so many cities, _so many human beings_ didn't think of coming together to face the threat?"

"The problem isn't how many, but how powerful," Saitou explained briefly and she absolutely hated how his voice alone held more authority than her entire being "and in this unit, it's the six of us."

Time to take the lead again. "If you think this is anything short of a suicide mission, you are sorely mistaken. But we have to go, because we are the responsible adults. And yes, as a woman of the cloth, sworn to protect and preserve human life, this has become personal; and yes it hurts and makes me feel like a caged animal but I'll be damned if I take more people than needed to the grave. And if you're still not convinced about your own incompetence, come on; I dare you. Attack me."

Saitou looked at her sharply; that look transferred, even more austere, to Daichi, who looked like he was entertaining the thought.

"Come on, try to come at me. I won't report you or what have you."

"This stops right now," Saitou intervened absolute.

"Oh come on, Hajime, aren't you curious?" she goaded expertly. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of it, just how skilled I can be to talk all that smack." Well, the thought did cross his mind. "Besides, it will take the edge off the men, too." She turned to look at the instigator. "Right, oh wise one?"

A smirk formed on Saitou's lips. "Fine; I'll allow it. But there can only be one blow from each."

"I don't need to strike back; I'm not looking to hurt anyone. I simply wish to show him how weak he is in comparison."

"...I'll allow it."

"Perfect! So, come at me, oh wise one; put your all into it, don't be scared."

Twenty three souls were holding their breaths as Daichi took his stance; he wasn't fucking around, he was really going for the kill. Bent knees and hand over his hilt, a quick draw; they all knew what was bound to follow: a one-hit ko. At least, to those weaker than him. He counted the seconds mentally: one, two, _three_ ; he launched himself at her and he became a blur! At least to those behind him; she never lost sight of him. Thus, he came to be revealed a little too soon, as, even without her fancy shield, his attack was rendered completely useless. She only needed to raise one armoured hand to stop him dead in his tracks, and that was all; that was it. His katana reverberated off of her black metal and the shock shook him entire.

Just one simple move and he was rendered completely immobile.

Chins hang; eyes became wide. Then, she grabbed the sword with her bare hand and twisted it in such a way it left the man's possession and came into hers without so much as scratching her hand. She gave it back to him with an open palm.

"If one failed attack freezes you enough for me to extract your sword as if I'd asked for it, I'd hate to see how you'd fare against what we'll be facing." He took it back, numb and speechless. "Reevaluate your strength before rushing into danger thoughtlessly." He nodded, unable to do anything else. Just like that, her attitude changed from hardass to weary in 0.02 seconds. "Now, please; go to sleep so tomorrow you can help those weaker than you. They will need all the help they can get."

The men nodded mutely, bowed to her as deep as they could and exited their commanders' tent. She gave a long suffering sigh once they were all gone, face in her palm. "We are all up-to-date with the plan, is what I came to say, and if there are any last details you want to change, do so now."

"No, it is satisfactory."

A pause lingered, which she took as a dismissal and made to go.

"Tokio."

The sound of her name stopped her; it was spoken softer than usual, making her curious as to why he was asking for her. The reason was...there were about one million things he wanted to say to her: _you were incredibly badass_ ; _where did you learn to do that_ ; _you're the strongest woman I have ever met_ ; instead, all he could get out was three little words: "Pray for us."

"I already am."

.

"It's you again, isn't it?"

"Yes," came the whispered answer.

He felt a vein popping. It was barely three hours later, nearing eleven again; just as he had blown out his light, ready to lie down, he heard rustling right outside. She burrowed inside like a mouse, not using the door this once. Considering his tent was smack-dub in the middle of the whole tent-complex, he found it amazing how none had seen her yet. She couldn't make herself invisible, could she?

"And what could you possibly want now?"

She finally emerged from the fabrics, face and clothes smudged by soil, while small twigs had entangled themselves in her long hair. She stood to her full height and he didn't fail to notice how she was, in fact, wearing her nightwear again, instead of her armour.

"I have been doing a lot of thinking, and it's been keeping me up." She became a little awkward, looking to the side. One of her hands was stubbornly made into a fist, held up at the front, while the other fell to her side. "I needed to...I considered..."

The large intake of air seemed to put her thoughts in order; refocusing, she clutched her hand closer to her chest and walked to his bed, where he was sitting up. She knelt in front of him. "I spoke of how we may all die earlier, but I never truly realised how right I was until I lay down to sleep, which, naturally, I couldn't do. Because what if I do die?"

Ah shit; he wasn't having this conversation with her so late at night, damn it! When she looked straight at him, serious yet still a little nervous, he felt like grabbing her cheeks and turning her face away. Besides, concerning her choice of words and the way she approached the topic, his mind ran wild with what she could really be doing there.

"Contrary to your belief, my family is well-prepared for the case of my passing. I made sure to get it into their head, long before I took this assignment at your side...thus, should anyone deliver the bad news, he won't suffer any consequences."

Finally, he discerned the purpose of her visit. It was a very far cry from what he had originally thought, thank Shizuru. "But I don't want them to know a month after the fact, nor am I comfortable with the idea someone I haven't personally approved of doing the deed. Thus, I humbly ask of you, should I meet my end tomorrow, please, _please_ Saitou Hajime; please let my family know of my passing."

She bowed at the same time she presented to him what lay hidden in her fist: a translucent, perfectly round bead, that appeared to be made out of glass; it was at least three by three and, as he took it in his hand for a closer inspection, it was quite hefty, not hollow at all. He raised an eyebrow at the thing and then her, who was sitting opposite him properly again.

"And this? _Payment_?"

It felt absurd just saying it out loud and her chuckle only confirmed it. "Though it did cost a large sum to make and the sweat and time went into it all but triple its worth, no, this isn't payment; this is the means by which you are to contact my family."

"How am I to do _that_?" He examined it very closely, but with no light, there was not much he could see. "Does it go somewhere?"

"No; you simply crush it in your palm." The way he looked at her, doubt written all over his face and larger-than-normal eyes, was comical. "H, hear me out," she asked through silent laughs. "This was imbued with magic by me, personally. It doesn't take strength to shutter it, but intent; if you think of needing to contact my family when you hold it in your palm and then apply the pressure, it will break into thousand pieces and immediately dissolve. It won't even cut your hand."

"But I don't know your family."

"It doesn't matter; it's magic. You just think you need to contact my family and that will do the rest."

Saitou wasn't satisfied, and it had nothing to do with her instructions; he remained looking at the damn thing for well over a minute, trying to figure out what didn't sit well with him, while being impressed by how smooth this thing was. It took him the full minute, but he finally traced the problem to its source. "Why are you giving _me_ this?"

She swallowed. "I know I'm constantly giving you a hard time about how you always rush into things and how much your body suffers because of it, but, as your healer, I couldn't help but notice you are also the most resilient fighter. You receive twice the hits others do, even take the full burnt of it, yet you maintain a very decent level of movement; others can't, with half the damage. So, if one of you makes it out alive when I don't, there's a high chance that's you."

"I would never allow myself to watch the only woman of the party die." Without even thinking, he handed it back. "If you're dead, I've died before you."

"Things one does not expect happen in battles all the time Hajime, you of all people should know that."

She tried to push the see-through orb in his hand, taking firm hold of his wrist; albeit surprised by her strong grip, he managed to wiggle free. "Not these things don't; these are matters of honour."

"No they aren't! And I am as skilled in saving people, as I am getting them out of danger. Maybe you won't _have_ a choice; and maybe, if it comes to that, I want someone I can trust to do this."

"If this is your plan for tomorrow, some self-sacrificing bullshit, I swear on the Goddess above, I will not hesitate to leave you behind—"

"That is most certainly **not** what I have planned for my future," she was absolute on that "but I cannot be sure it won't happen, either. This is, to put it simply, my backup plan."

He clicked his tongue, sentiments obvious. "Why would you trust me out of everyone here anyway?"

"Because you keep your word no matter what."

It was crystal clear the man did not want to be put in this position. His pride alone would perceive the thought of her dying before him as incomprehensible, just as he admitted and she knew befroe he said it; but she also knew he was the one most likely to survive. Nagakura was an excellent choice as well, if she was being honest, but, something about the way Hajime carried himself, she knew her father would like him better. And if one was to deliver such news, better have all the advantages in the world...she wasn't lying anyway; he would undoubtedly do as promised. The problem lay in getting him to do so.

"Your reasons are adequate; and yet, I shall not accept the task. Please give this to someone else." He held out his palm in refusal, too in case his words weren't enough. He stopped looking at her then and turned to the upturned fabrics at the edge of his tent, the place she crawled inside from. "If that is all, I would like to sleep now."

"I understand; you have the right to refuse what could potentially be someone's last request, but I shall leave this here." She put the orb on the floor in front of her, right between them. "Just for the night. If you still do not accept by tomorrow morning, I will take it back."

"Tokio-"

"Goodnight, Hajime. Please think no more about it for now."

And just like that, she was gone, exiting properly this once. From the lack of surprised voices, he figured no one saw her. Yet, somehow, her being seen was the least of his problems right now. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

What an unforgiving woman.

Next morning, although they had not set a specific time – such as the break of dawn, or seven and a half – strangely, all of them came together at the very front of the camp, the part that was considered the entrance, at eight o'clock sharp. Well, not exactly; Tokio had first passed by the acting commander's tent. When she saw he wasn't there, she looked at the small training grounds, to find him practicing his swing. She waited for him to finish, not daring to interrupt his focus, even if he had clearly sensed and then seen her coming.

But once he had put on his hitatare back on properly, she approached him. "Have you reached a decision?"

Her head was slightly inclined, eyes to the side, voice meek; this woman was the perfect manipulator; his choice solidified it. He nearly growled. "I have; and if we _all_ come back from this mission, I am very tempted to break the damn thing just so I can meet the people who raised you to always get your way."

She beamed at him! "Thank you very much, acting commander. I shall not forget about this."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah; move, you little schemer." When they gathered their horses and moved to the informal gates, they noticed the rest converging. "How fortuitous," he commented without a shred of humour "we are all here. Are we ready?"

"Yessir," they chorused.

"Then Okita, Nagakura, lead the way."

"Wait, before we leave," Harada stopped everyone "we have to make something crystal clear right now." Their expectant looks egged him on. "If push comes to shove and you two ain't agreeing, whose lead are we supposed to follow?"

Shit, they hadn't thought of that; the way they looked at each other confirmed it. There wasn't malice in the ensuing wordless argument that broke out between them, just confusion, ego and exasperation.

" _Mine_ ," they stated at the same time.

Both positively fumed at one another and yet there was no shouting involved. Just ample glaring and a second, silent argument that transpired as if on another plane of understanding. He seemed to win it in the end, as a pointed stare made her look away. "Fine, his," she gave in and they could tell she really hated it "but if there comes a moment where I have to choose to follow _my_ lead or his, I'm choosing mine."

"Wouldn't even dream of the alternative," Saitou teased and she actually threw him her leftover breakfast – an apple –.

Apple serving as the cue, Okita spurred his horse into action, first in line to lead the way; Nagakura was last, since he, too knew the way and had no concerns of him accidentally breaking off and getting lost through all those trees. The very fact there still existed such thick woods at this part was in itself a comfort: that meant both the creature hadn't found its way here yet and they had good cover, should they have to wait. They'd hate to enter the village after all, unless absolutely necessary.

Half past eight, give or take, the party of six had arrived at their destination. They were overlooking the busy village from the top of the hill, where they definitely had the high ground, whatever side their enemy decided to approach from. Saitou had given himself a timetable: if the target hadn't showed up till midday he would: a) lead the men back to the camp and b) skewer Tokio for leading him astray. Or maybe he should skewer himself for listening to her and her flimsy excuses as to how she got the info. So much incense she breathed in everyday, who knew, maybe she got high and imagined the whole thing.

"Alright, I don't mean to sound rude captain, but when the hell is that thing coming?"

"Patience Harada-san," Tokio spoke softly, next to their perceived leader "it's barely half past nine."

"Of course, Sanosuke, didn't you know? Monsters never wake up before nine." Toudou was within her range, so she unforgivingly slapped his shoulder with her shield. "And shining their claws takes time."

"How could I ever forget?"

"You two are joking, but come to think of it, have you ever heard of a monster attack before eleven?" Nagakura mused out loud. "Forget the Fire Giants and the oni and brrr, those goddamn swarms, even before we embarked for this mission, do you ever honestly recall doing anything other than training in the morning?"

There was collective silence. "No," Okita drew out the word in his reply "I really don't; you are right."

"Not me, Heisuke here."

"Shut up, butter; shouldn't you start heading back to camp any moment now?"

Eyes traveled to Saitou. "In half an hour," he informed and silence fell over them again.

"So, is anyone interested in knowing what I found out about horses last night?" They all groaned. "Oh come on, not one?"

"Let me guess: you found out horses, much like humans, start panicking and look for ways to make themselves scarce at the very sight of you?"

"That was so mean, Toudou, and I even supported you just now."

"What do you want me to say, when—?"

"Shhhhh..."

Tokio had put her hand in front of her mouth to emphasize her need for them to be quiet while the other hand was motioning for them to be completely still. "Do you hear that?"

Toudou gave her a look as if she was crazy. "Hear what?"

"The buzzing..." she answered as she held both hands parallel to the ground and now all men gave her the same look. "You don't even feel it?"

"The buzzing," Harada repeated, to make sure they all heard well and that yes, it sounded ridiculous.

"Not exactly...it's like a separate entity. How—how can you not feel it? It's suffocating." She looked out to the horizon, the village sprawling out in front of them. Her hands started moving, lips muttering incantations. "Whatever it is, it's coming."

Her eyes had gone wild now, focusing on the horizon in front of her, but not knowing where exactly she should be looking; her breathing became a little shallow, preparing for the arrival. Then her hands worked like crazy and she was casting spells left and right, going through motions they had never seen before—and other than two, all focused on her. The men would look at one another and then her in rapid succession.

"Any moment now; it will be here."

Then she realised; eyes wide as saucers, she grabbed Saitou from the collar in a very forward manner, upsetting each and every samurai, and without sparing him a second glance, she gestured to the sight in front of them. "It's coming for the village!" She let go a little too indelicately. "We have to ride out and meet it or the people will die!"

"Then let's go," Saitou agreed, dusting off nonexistent dirt.

He needn't say it a second time; she had kicked her horse into a sprint well before the others so much as registered the order. "What has gotten into her!?" Harada wondered out loud.

 _She's been weird half a week now_ , Saitou estimated but dared not voice it.

"How can she feel—how can you feel it's coming?" Okita shouted at her while catching up.

"How can't you?" she snubbed back.

Toudou shrugged. "Maybe it's a cleric thing."

"Whatever it is, it ain't attuned right," Harada insisted "nothing showed up ye—eet!"

He never properly finished his train of though.

An otherworldly lighting split the sky right before their eyes; their reality blended with another to create a portal through the slit that was made. Deafening thunder followed, the skies blackened for miles. The men had to control their horses not to fall over. And then, something unbelievable happened: a terrible, enormous clawed hand appeared from the dark pits, struggling to crawl out. Then an identical sprang out from the other side and slowly, but certainly, the most horrific, elongated neck of the ugliest...something they had ever laid eyes on emerged.

Screams and mass hysteria hit the village; like ants, the people screeched, running around and into one another in desperation and horror. Their horses were also struck by the sight, neighing and refusing to take a single step forward, if it meant charging towards that thing. And through it all, a solitary rider took pause right in the middle of the reverse miracle and took in each and every aspect of the monster.

She was wrong; this was something none of them could face, a threat on a whole other level. Her anger had led her teammates into danger and now she would be the one to blame for their deaths. She hated herself in that moment. She should have seen it coming. But she hadn't and this development...it made her vulnerable. She'd only managed to cast a few spells. She had to make it up as she went.

On the other hand, for what felt like an eternity, all the men could do was stare at the unrecognizable monster with fright and pause; they saw it flap its leather, sickly wings to take flight and their hearts started beating again. At the same time, they turned to their healer, looking for anything helpful.

"This is a Jabberwock," her tone was clipped and urgent "they are akin to mythical creatures, never saw one before. It's a western dragon and it can't see, but it doesn't matter-it uses blindsight. It fears vorpal weapons and can use its wings to create powerful winds; can shoot fire beams from its eyes. Screeches loud enough to render you useless." She finally turned back to look at the lot of them: they were apprehensive; and despite the coolness of her voice, she was white as a sheet. "If you have any vorpal swords, this is the day to use them—its the only type of sword that deals it damage properly. Now, steel your determination and stand proud; also, stay back. _Please stay back_."

She had never moved with such speed before, nor this way—her hands did something they had never seen before and a faint light hit her. It disappeared immediately. But her hands didn't stop there, no; urging her horse to gallop forward, she remained committed to her spell and simultaneously, what felt like a warm gust of wind hit the entire team. Saitou felt faster, arms lighter.

What did she...?

Just as she had warned them then, they saw the despicable creature descend upon the village, sparks starting to form in its eyes; it was going to burn it down!

"Over here, you overgrown lizard!"

Her shouted insult earned its attention, but also its gaze...and the attack that came with it. The two fiery beams meant for the settlement, were redirected towards her. And in a not at all expected turn of events, Tokio was hit directly. Something constricted in Saitou's chest; her words from last night rang in his ears louder than the beast's ferocious victory cry.

This could not be it; this can't be how it ended. After everything she'd put them through, all the talks about not rushing into a fight—this was unacceptable.

But then, there was hope: Tokio pulled herself upright just to jump off of her horse in the next moment, and roll away. Relieved beyond possibility, he shot forward, ditching the horse, spurring the rest of the men into action, too, to ascertain her state of being. But the creature didn't like her being alive and just as it was about to turn its efforts back to the village, it almost complained and turned back to her.

"Leave, you idiots! It's gonna kill us all!"

"How can you still be alive after that!?" Harada was all but dumbfounded. "We saw it hit you!"

"LEAVE, get out of its range, what are you doing?"

She stood with close to no effort and was prepared to break into a run, when Saitou's hand grabbed her and almost threw her back down. "Remember the self-sacrificing bullshit we talked about yesterday night?" He turned to face the dragon. "We are a unit."

"This is not— _move_!"

She tackled him to the ground; with such heavy armour, it was a miracle she could move so well. She rolled a good five metres away from them and then took off towards the beast! "TOKIO!" they all screamed, astounded by her sheer speed and determination to leave them behind. But the ugly monster stopped its advance on purpose and perched itself just twenty metres away from her. Now it stood so close, they could see its size—one scale from its skin as big as their heads. It was...disheartening.

"Why is she running _towards_ it!?" Toudou almost ruined his vocal chords with desperation.

And then that twisted dragon let out a terrifying amalgamation of voices that no one knew if they were its own or it had borrowed them from some other mystical creatures. But oh gods was it unbearable! Saitou clamped down, enduring the confusing screeches as best as he could; two seconds felt like two centuries. He couldn't blame Okita and Nagakura when they just stood there, not knowing what was going on around them. Toudou and Harada barely communicated with their surroundings, too but he, he somehow could still walk, draw his sword...he _needed_ to draw it; he needed to fight. He had to protect his men, keep the unit together, prove he wasn't lying when he said he would not allow her to die before him.

But it was no use. The frightening beast had set its sights towards them. He gulped; this was it. He reached for his katana, familiar and right in his hand—that gave him a little courage. He took a stance ready to attack; his hand trembled. If he didn't move now, he'd miss his chance. He had to move, had to move, had to move—

"Not so fast, monster!"

Tokio was standing right in front of it; she drew her sword—...her what now? It was a katana, too, only hers was better than the one in his hand. He didn't know how he could know that, only that he did and it was the truth. "This blade will be your undoing, decapitation-fearing dragon!"

She wasted no time lunging at it; his heart fell to the pit of his stomach, yet at the same time he felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. It all came down to the hit: did it connect, did she reach him, did it—it did! A strangled cry of pain and panic was released by the Jabberwock, as a blue, blood-like substance gushed out in a fountain.

No, not blood-like, it was its blood; it was just blue.

Then she continued her attack and the second hit landed, too; the third missed the target, but it didn't matter, the creature was too stunned to do anything too complicated. That was when she saw her opportunity: drawing power from her fearlessness, if he had to guess, because sure as hell none of them did anything for her, she moved like she swayed and few whispered commands later, huge whirling blades made purely of energy sprang into existence! They formed a prison around and _on_ the dragon, who tried to evade, but didn't make it. More pain and anguish came from the staggering beast, that couldn't entangle itself from the force blades.

He gaped. Could she always do that!?

"Ride to the village," Tokio ordered, voice absolute "protect the people. I will be with you shortly."

Unable to act in any other way, the dragon fell pray to Tokio's intentions: her body moved again, grace and speed forming a pure, white circle of light in her hand; without a shred of hesitation, she jumped skillfully through the blades she herself created and struck the Jabberwock with it!

But nothing happened. "DAMN YOU!"

The dragon found its bearings again, shaking its problems away and turned to the cleric; after it slithered its body through the blades, its head swooped down. Disgusting mouth open, the not-too-sharp fangs closed around her body.

She screamed out in pain; Saitou's hand finally moved. But before he could take on the beast as he wanted, its two claws descended upon the woman, trying to grab her; in a show of mercy, both missed, but then the tail came from behind, to slam into her back! And yet, despite the blood and those horrible cracking sounds, somehow, Tokio was still standing.

Then Saitou finally focused enough that he could attack. The blow was instantaneous; he, too found his target, but he could tell, he was barely able to hit it. But his trusted blade drew enough blood to draw the attention of the horrid dragon, even if just momentarily. For some reason, it was laser-focused on Tokio damn it, and it would not look away from her.

"What's happening...?" Okita stumbled on his words.

"Hell if I know," Toudou admitted, head in his hands. Harada groaned from next to them, but Nagakura was too bad to even move.

"Stand up and ride to the village," Saitou's voice broke through their haze. "If Nagakura can't move, pick him up and go."

As fast as they could, they looked his way. Just as they had expected, their leader was crouching three metres away but in front of them, katana stained with their enemy's blood and ready to strike. He was indeed the better fighter, they had to bitterly admit; they could barely hear themselves think but he was out there, defending them. "What about you?" Okita managed to ask without stuttering.

He looked back just for a second. Those who could see him nearly fell back from shock! There was something primal in his face, fear, determination and hate all mingled together. "I will join you when she does."

As if they could not really see beyond their captain before, they felt like their eyes were opened to the scene in front of them for the first time: Tokio was slashing at the ugly dragon, drawing blood for her efforts, while the beasts fangs clamped tightly around the hand and shoulder that held her weapon. The fangs weren't sharp, which only meant they were better at breaking; and right now, they were breaking her. Saitou pushed off the ground and aimed for the beast; dirt flew at his jump, getting in everyone's eyes.

Okita felt like throwing up. "TOKIO-CHAN!"

"No, Okita, you heard him; let's go!"

Toudou had already thrown Nagakura over his shoulder; Harada was trying to do the same with Okita, who stubbornly shouted the woman's name and felt like an unmovable object. Damn it, what sort of man was he to allow Tokio take all the hits as he escaped? Saitou even found his target, too—why couldn't he try? And what kind of second in command leaves his post on the first place?

"Leave, you idiots," Tokio's strained voice crept under his skin and made him shudder "ride to the village. Protect its people as best as you can."

Her voice was laced with pain; anger; he couldn't bear it. "We can't just leave you here!"

"Don't force my hand!"

"Tokio—HARADA!"

The man had enough and finally succeeded in his endeavour, grabbing Okita, the smallest and lightest of their company and dragging him away. "No, Tokio-chan is hurt, don't you see?"

" _She's_ the healer asshole! We can't do anything for her." Harada shouted back and jostled him. "Besides, didn't you notice? They are both agreeing..."

What could he possibly say to that? He had to listen to his superiors. His head hang, tears of frustration reaching his cheeks. "If you don't come back in an hour, I will personally come for you!"

Fuck; the Jabberwock might have been focused on Tokio, but it wasn't an idiot; it must have had a basic understanding of the language, too for it suddenly redirected all of its attention to the four retreating samurai. Unceremoniously, he slapped Tokio with its tail again, only this once, he put all of its strength into it, aiming to get her out of its way, rather than actually harm her and Tokio flew back an impressive ten metres into the air before crushing into the ground. Flapping its wings, creating very strong gusts of wind that pinned Saitou down, it launched itself against the four men.

"Run; _run_! Faster, go!"

But Toudou's screams didn't matter; the dragon didn't even bother reaching them, no—sparks flew from its eyes and the fire beams were soon to follow. As if in slow motion, Saitou and Tokio watched as the Jabberwock hit all four of them with deadly accuracy. And then, the most terrible thing happened: they caught on fire!

" _ **NO**_!" Her scream was shrill and deafening. "Leave them alone you monster!"

Thank Shizuru, the fire brought Nagakura out of his stupor; despite the pain and agony, training emerged and all of them immediately rolled on the ground to put out the flames. Tokio took off running with all of her speed towards them; Saitou, now able to move again, darted for his men in an instant. His sword hit the dragon at the side of its neck—but why couldn't his hits connect damn it!? No, it was what Tokio told them: he needed a vorpal sword to get through it properly and he didn't have one.

It didn't matter, the beast was distracted momentarily. Instead of unleashing its fury on the lot of them, it first turned to attack Saitou. Its head came down and Saitou felt the sensation of someone trying to tear him in half, such power the creature held. Were he a lesser man he'd have dropped his sword, but he held on to it with spite.

But he was forgotten; next thing, the ugly monster of lore concentrated on his comrades, one claw striking Nagakura mid-roll; the other found Toudou right at the abdomen as he was trying to stand; and the tail whip found Okita square on the face.

All three fell to the ground, bleeding; Nagakura wasn't moving but at least still breathing; Toudou's breaths were shallow; and Okita, oh dear Shizuru, Okita was not a sight to behold, albeit still somehow alive. And the flames might have gone out, but their after affects remained. But Saitou, with his bitten shoulder and bleeding face, he was still standing; he had to do something.

Stubbornness rather than perseverance guided Saitou's hand to raise his sword once more; one; two; three slices. But only the first one was successful. The Jabberwock hadn't cared too much, it only shook it off. He felt regret bitter in his mouth; it was too strong for them. It would kill them all. At least he did well to listen to Tokio and leave the others back. With an eerie serenity, he watched as the dragon began descending upon them once more, ready to deal the finishing blow; and they all looked upwards, refusing to face their end in a coward's way.

The fangs of the Jabberwock turned to Saitou. His end would come at the hands of a beast he could barely fight against; he wasn't at peace. At least the villagers would remember him—however long that was anyway. There was silence in his mind; _Shizuru, receive me in your sacred halls_ , he thought a quick prayer, _forgive my wrongdoings and allow these men with me_.

"Not today, foul beast."

He jolted, eyes opening – when had they closed – as the determined voice of their healer snapped them out of it. They saw her standing right in front of them, katana embedded deep in the monster's skin, as well as the beasts' sharp teeth in hers. Blood sprayed out of both as the Jabberwock cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, releasing her and itself. It tried to gain height, but its pain didn't allow it, so it decided to strike out. Try as she might to defend herself, nothing helped; all three hits connected—ribs, chest and her back.

Horrible, cracking sounds reached their ears; her blood hit their faces. And her body was just patches of clear skin on mangled flesh...

"T, Tokio-chan..." Okita's strangled plea was barely heard. Saitou's heart stopped beating for a long second as the rest of the men held their breaths.

Her body became limp; she slumped and began her horrible, downward descent...

A blinding light engulfed her; time seemed to have stopped. Something divine cradled her, suspending her mid-air, right before she hit the ground. The Jabberwock suddenly became fearful and flapped its wings to distance itself as much as it could. Tokio was pushed upright again by something unseen; Saitou noticed her hand closing in around her katana firmly and clutching at her shield. Then her eyes opened wide, emitting unadulterated energy and they watched with fascination as the lethal damage became undone. Not all of it, not even half of it; just that which almost killed her.

They all just stood there, mouths wide open, chins hanging. Her breathing was shallow and her wounds severe but she was...she was...alive. Then the light burst out of her, hitting all of them square in the face! That unmistakable warmth only she could make them feel washed over them in a wave and they too could feel themselves feeling better.

They gaped even more, looking at one another and how a portion of the damage was undone.

Then, as if nothing extraordinary had just happened to her, she casually reached into her satchel; and just as they thought that nothing else could ever surprise them again, she produced a fist-sized crystal vial, fulled to the brim with _diamond dust_. She thrust her hand into the sky, screaming incantations that made the Jabberwock panic and try to confuse her with its own screeches, but it didn't even faze her: the heavens rumbled above her and just where she stood, the sky started to clear.

"Oh protector of the weak and champion of medicine; Qi Zhong, lover of knowledge and all that is just and pure, grant me your favour!" Her voice was booming, but quiet at the same time. "Allow me to succeed in my next attack, make it the best this sword can ever achieve; allow me to triumph over this evil creature in your name and in the name of all that's good and wise!"

A spoke that consisted of all five elements hit her! In an impressive show of unbelievable feats, it was all absorbed by the woman who now burnt with the fire of a thousand suns, yet she was as fearsome to behold as the sea; unbending as a rock, her countenance had not changed at all, but at the same time she was not the same person. Residual energy swirled around her, steeling her sword even further. She slowly started moving, gradually breaking into a sprint, that felt more like the ground was pushing her to go forward than her putting any additional effort into it.

The Jabberwock did all it could to fly away, heading straight for its slit in the sky; the ground propelled her upwards then, sent her spinning in perfect loops, until she found herself directly above and in front of the monster.

"Haaaaaah!"

She slashed at the monster, blood spraying and spilling everywhere. In an almost impossible turn of events, they watched as the Jabberwock froze mid-air, an ear-splitting scream causing everyone to cover their ears...!

Next thing they knew, a long neck came to slouch rigid and lifeless, as the Jabberwock started falling. The body hit the ground first, shaking the earth; some seconds later, the head followed, like a sick, oversized jigsaw puzzle. After a moment of profound amazement the men craned their necks to make sure what they were seeing was true: the Jabberwock lay beheaded and very much dead twenty metres away from them.

They exchanged long, numb stares; had Tokio just killed the monster?

Suddenly, Saitou's heartbeat spiked; Tokio! He looked up to the sky and spotted her free falling a good distance away from her sword. It only took a split second. Saitou's muscles constricted and then tensed; he counted down: seven, six, five, four, three, two—now! He pushed off the ground with impressive form and grabbed onto the woman just before impact. They both rolled on the ground, to shake off gravity's pull and potential damage as much as they could and they came to a stop ways away from the dragon.

He was the first one to put his elbow on the ground and try sit up; as he did, he watched Tokio's chest rise and fall rapidly, one hand held out and the other on top of it. Her face was riddled with cuts, blood and bruises, chips in her perfect black armour visible. Her legs twitched on their own. And yet, she found it in herself to pop one eye open, as much as she could, and offer him a small but genuine smile. "W...we made it..."

"Yeah," was all he could lamely respond with.

"Go...team..."

"Go _you_ ," he corrected and he still couldn't wrap his head around what he had just witnessed.

"N...nonsense...we all...played our part..."

 _Sure; of the victim_ , he thought self-deprecatingly but spoke none of it; he just watched her close both eyes again and savour the feeling of her back flat against the grass, the safety of not needing to fight anymore. He looked up. The others only now were able to shake off their utter astonishment so he looked at the right. The horses had settled there now that the threat was dead. He made his decision fast. Putting both hands underneath her, one at her knees and the other at her back, he pushed off and started walking.

"Wh, what are you doing?" She sounded a little panicked – oh the irony – looking all around her. "I'm too heavy with this armour, put me down. I'll be able to walk in a minute, it's fine."

"You carried the entire party all on your own for the duration of this fight; about time someone else carried _you_."

She didn't speak, even if it was obvious she wanted to; she simply put her head on his chest and allowed her muscles to relax. Only now did he realise she had never let up—she was constantly in overdrive, even after she defeated the unbeatable foe.

It didn't take long for the rest to catch up and when they all met up, small distance away from the horses, he put her down. To his surprise, she was standing on her own, without any help. But not for long, because all four men moved at the same time and they brought her down, in a group hug! Sniffles of congratulations, whispers of thanks and whimpers of accusation for her stupidity were ample on the men's lips who could not, would not, for the life of them comprehend how she was still alive. Neither could Saitou for that matter, but right now, he chose not to think about it.

Once the emotional reunion was over, they all stood, helping her up whether she needed it or not. "Look at us," she finally said, good-old fussing Tokio shining through "so much blood, so many injuries...we have to heal." She shook her head. "Gather around me gentlemen, this requires a lot of effort."

She closed her eyes and stood in the middle of the small circle they formed around her; words they would never recognise left her lips, as she moved gracefully, dancing almost, to the chants she herself produced; not one second later, a very familiar – at least to Saitou – sensation ran through everyone, healing as it went, cleansing them inside and out. Nagakura's headaches were gone, his confusion dissolved completely; the burnt skin became smooth once more, pain-free; the fear was replaced with a sense of achievement, the worry with tranquility. Their shaking stopped completely.

And just like that, they were as good as new.

She didn't expect anyone to thank her, just turned to look at the village. "Thank the gods, the village remained untouched," she noted with relief as she collected her sword "but maybe we ought to send a couple of people over to make sure everything is fine. I would prefer to go back to the camp, relax a little, so if any of you'd rather-..." She stopped talking upon realising the looks they were giving her. "What?"

"We either _all_ return to the camp or all of us head over to that village, no more moving around independently." Saitou thundered her with _the_ look but relented. "Personally, I would prefer returning to camp, send them a missive and visit them later."

"That sounds reasonable," she actually yawned through that "let's go."

The ride back was silent.

Saitou had made a point to stay by her horse's side and maybe catch her in case she fell asleep on the saddle, but despite her non-stop yawning and blinking just to keep her eyes open, she didn't need the extra hand. In fact, they had all formed a protective circle around her, even if they had no idea why. She apparently didn't _need_ it—if it weren't for her they'd all been dead. And that, that was incomprehensible. They owed her their lives not in the "oh you fought well and maybe staved off a hit" way that was used between them, but in the "if it weren't for you doing everything and anything possible to keep us whimpering, sniveling asshats safe, we'd be long dead" way. It was...a new sentiment.

When they arrived back at the encampment, more than thirty men swarmed them! All full of questions and exclamations, they claimied their fight was _felt_ for miles and miles away. "Whe the sky went dark, people started freaking out," Daichi explained once they managed to get off their horses "saying it was coming and we're all doomed."

"When nothing came, they started lamenting the poor bastards that were dying in their stead," another man, no older than sixteen added "but calmed down significantly."

"We told them you were on it though," Daichi continued, preening like a peacock "and that our captains are the best there are; there was no way you wouldn't defeat it."

"And from what we heard, the creature died! You defeated it."

Saitou couldn't help the derisive snort that escaped him at both men's comments; his eyes slid to Tokio. "Well, some of us did anyway." They seemed to capture the heart of his jab but not his tone.

"The Jabberwock was killed;" Nagakura intervened "that is all that matters."

"Yeah and not even a scratch on you...had an easy fight?" Every hair on the six people's body stood at attention. "What's this Jabberwock-sounds crazy. Must have been an easy opponent."

Five out of six turned to look at him with so much anger and exasperation, the young man _felt_ their fury, rather than see it; they were seething at him, some even entartaining the thought of pouncing at the guy for daring to speak such a thing out loud.

"Actually," Nagakura started speaking, the relatively calm way he cleared his throat helping relieve the tension "it was a very difficult and dangerous fight; it's a miracle we are all still alive." Their momenntarily haunted expressions convinced the men of the veracity of his statement. "If it wasn't for Tokio-san's amazing talents, we'd be...unsightly right now."

"Forgive me, captain," the man apologised from the heart.

"That's okay; it only serves to show how insightful the decision to leave you behind was." Saitou asserted himself, hoping this would teach the unit to never speak against them again. "Takeda, stop skulking around, come here," he then decided to change the subject "I want you to write and deliver a letter to the village we rode out to; we will all be going there close to nightfall, tell them. If any of their elders want to speak to us, they are welcome, but they need to catch us at the gate." He looked over his men. "I have a feeling if we reach the pub, we ain't leaving any time soon."

Cheers followed that statement and he knew he made the right choice. "Don't make it overly complicated and don't use your big words; they are simple people. And don't be arrogant; be polite." He snorted. "Sixty eight men will be taking over their public places, the least we can do is be nice about it."

"But you just defeated the evil creature that wrought destruction as an agent of chaos; why shouldn't you-?"

"We didn't do it for the praise," Tokio spoke for the first time after a long, long time; it was clipped and absolute. "These people owe nothing to us; make sure your words convey that sentiment."

"As you wish, Tokio-sama."

She gave a nod and no one else the time of day; she dragged her feet to her tent, where she would lie in her bed for a well-deserved nap. Saitou watched her go. "Daichi."

"Yessir."

"Make sure no one disturbs her." He nodded. "And if she hasn't emerged by the time we start preparing to leave, come find me."

"As you wish, vice-commander."

"By the way," he stopped him "tell the men to refer to her with more formality." Daichi looked confused. "She's higher ranking than a captain, you know," the man looked impressed "so you have to address her accordingly."

"Yessir."

He complied immediately, protest not even a thought, while he actually seemed enthusiastic at the prospect; heh, his lesson yesterday night – it did feel a week ago – was very educating. Well, today's lesson was going to be a much more difficult one to forget, Saitou was sure.

.

.

When Tokio walked out of her tent that afternoon, she was surprised to see Daichi idly standing about. When he saw her emerge, he gave her a nod, a small smile and left.

What the hell?

She went to the horses' pen, found her trusted stallion and stroke its snout. The animal appreciatively rubbed its face in her embrace. "I put you through so much today," she whispered in its ear and it neighed "forgive me old friend." The horse neighed once again, tail wagging wildly. "I'm sorry that I'll be using you again today, but you don't mind a simple trip, yes?"

It rubbed its face into her again and she smiled. "The only man in my life who never judges," she joked and stroke the animal one final time. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, be good till then."

Time passed like a breeze; oddly, but like a breeze.

Men started bowing to her as she passed them by, much like they did with Hijikata and now Saitou. She was pretty certain no one had said anything, otherwise they'd have stormed her tent with questions. Quizzical, she went to the tent they held the crafting supplies, trying to tinker with her armour. She knew she couldn't really repair it until they reached a large city to find the right materials so patches would do for now. Without really thinking, she removed and put it on the wooden stand. She wore her underarmour clothes naturally, but it appeared men of the East were not used to them and certainly not on women because when Hyousuke, the young man who served as a temporary armourer, walked into the tent as she was still working, he changed ten colours, looked away, stuttered about ten apologies and left.

It was alright, really; every single part of her body was covered by red and black cloth. A red turtleneck blouse with long sleeves underneath a padded black vest. Fine, red pants on her legs, covered by black knee pads made of the same padded material as the vest that started around the thigh and reached midway to her shins. She even still wore her gloves, for god's sake! They were form-fitting, but other than that, she was really, really covered...shaking her head, she decided to call it a day, take it and go back to her tent.

She took a quick shower hidden behind the trees, dousing herself with water she made, not in the mood to walk to the close by river, and put on a new set of clothes, albeit identical to her previous underarmour, and then reequipped her magnificent, but really difficult to wear armour. She really wanted to don a pretty kimono, but after today's events, she felt safer in her black cocoon. By the time she was finished, the time to depart had arrived, so she decided to head to the pen...only to stare as another man, Reiji, had already prepared her horse for her and waited together with it. Thankful, she nodded and mounted. The man didn't help her on, but respectfully bowed and went his way after she was secure. More confused than ever, she reached the gates.

Everyone had gathered there. Every single man of the unit was up on a horse, simple soldiers sharing their saddle with a comrade, same thing as the two healers always did; as she approached, the men parted and allowed her to reach the captain's huddle. Saitou looked at her for a long time, as if trying to understand something about her, but giving up.

"Let's go!" And just like that, they were all riding towards a night filled with promises of fun, women and alcohol.

.

.

When Tokio walked into the pub, the delicious smell of stew hit her nose, brewing in the cauldron over the fire; it mingled with that of alcohol, the almost acidic stench of puke and the by now familiar musk of many men in one place. She took a quick look around to see this pub was favoured by the six captains and barely two men of every unit. The rest had chosen one or both of the other two bars. It was a relatively big village, but to think it had so many recreational establishments. The only reason she was late to the party was the fact her horse had been difficult back at the stables anway and needed a lot of coddling before she finally parted with it. Then she went ahead and got herself a little lost. Alas, she found the right place and walked inside, head lowered and sights focused on her usual place: right at the very end of the bar, almost at the farthermost corner.

She spied the six captains drinking together, chatting and joking away; the surrounding tables were occupied by their men, who purposefully didn't stray too far away. There were women all around them, too some were even bold enough to sit in their laps. Barmaids brought them more spirits while villagers would lend an ear to theis stories and merrymaking.

Once more, she felt like an outsider. Trying to look nearly as defeated as she felt, she turned to the bartender who was waiting for her order. She took off her gloves. Sake or mead? She couldn't decide. The former was stronger but the latter came in a much bigger container. Wine could be a decent choice, too—it'd been a while since she had it. Wow, amazing; she could hear herself think, what a novelty.

But that was all because, although she hadn't noticed, the buzzing all around her had stopped entirely. She hadn't looked up, too busy poring over her choices, so she missed Saitou approaching her, slow but steady. Then he grabbed a glove out of her hands and it alarmed her enough to look at him. He smirked.

"Can't be picky, priestess; some are very expensive."

"S, so?"

"We are poor men, your eclecticness; and everyone's itching to by you a drink." Her heart stopped as he turned to their men. "So, will someone decide to buy this woman a drink already? Otherwise she'll never make up her mind."

Cheers were heard everywhere around her; just as she thought she would literally die of giddiness, her heart started beating fast and she started to worry about hyperventilating. As if reading her state of mind, he chuckled; it had to do with those increasingly red cheeks of her, but she didn't seem to register her own colour. "Come on, priestess; about time you joined us, lesser folk."

He didn't wait for her to stand from her stool, so she had to hurry to catch up to him. "Wh, what are you talking about?"

"You've been a a regular snob these past two months."

She gaped at him; another second passed with his seriousness never dissolving, so she struck out! "What are you talking about? I couldn't just come over there! You barely put up with me on regular basis, if I just invaded your little company you'd sneer at me the entire time."

"Oh please...! You had no problem ordering us around before."

"Which is why I thought you wouldn't want me there..." she muttered quickly. "And I don't order people around."

"Sure," he drawled, trying to put an end to the argument just before they sat. If Okita heard her, he knew he'd take her side and it wasn't to his best interest—the short man had asked him to invite her over about a hundred times, but Saitou was the one who always refused it. Honestly, he had no idea why; after the first two weeks, it was just stubbornness, not that he'd ever admit it.

"So, what are you drinking after all, Tokio-chan?"

"She still didn't order," Saitou informed them, shaking his head. He called the nearest barmaid and "a beer." The woman winked and went her way.

"Make it two," Toudou called after her and she nodded to show she heard him. "She's so sexy...!" he commented offhandedly but instantly scolded himself.

"Yeah, feel bad, you lecherous man;" Harada admonished "we have a lady in our company now."

She laughed. "Ah, please, don't hold back on my account; I have been in far too many of these situations to mind now."

"Tokio-sama is full of surprises," Takeda commented in a silky voice.

"Not really; people are people. Can't hold their desires against them—all within limits of course."

Just then, Toudou's sexy barmaid came back, carrying their two tankards. Her smile was wide and promising. "Here are your orders, masters."

Toudou smirked at her and she returned it but other than that said nothing. Tokio almost shook her head at him. She took the floor. "Thank you dear! What's your name? I hate calling people _hey you_."

The woman laughed. "It's Umeko," she inclined her head "but everyone just calls me Umi-chan."

"Perfect; thank you Umi-chan." Once she left, Tokio clicked her tongue. "How are you going to go anywhere with her if you don't even know her name?"

"Look at Tokio-chan, all flirty and stuff."

She was displeased. "It's my fault for helping. Fine, I won't do it again."

"No," Nagakura and Harada desperately pleaded, "no, don't listen to him."

"Let's drink, idiots," Saitou brought them back to the table. He raised his mug. "To powerful enemies and even more powerful allies."

They all raised their mugs with him...and drank until there was nothing left, Tokio included. He raised an eyebrow in her general direction. "I never said bottoms up, you know."

"It's just beer," she excused herself as if he was daft for making this a thing. Raising her hand in the air and shaking the empty container, she flagged down their waitress. "A round for everyone, Umi-chan, please."

"Right away."

"And your address for him, if you could." Harada pointed at Toudou; Toudou smacked his hand down as Umeko clicked her tongue in distaste. She left shaking her head and Tokio nearly put her hand in her forehead.

"So uncouth...you're hopeless."

When Umeko returned with their drinks, another barmaid helping her with so many orders, Tokio cleared her throat to attract her attention. "Forgive my friend, Umi-chan; it's just that Toudou" she gestured at the blushing man "was just telling us how pleasing he thinks your shoulders look with your hair like that and Harada had to be an immature manchild about it."

"O, oh, that's...um, thank you, Toudou-san."

Obviously happier with this explanation, Umeko turned and left with a smile; Tokio gave Harada a look. " **This** is how you help a friend."

He looked affronted "is this a competition?"

"If it is, you've lost already; I **am** a woman, in case you have forgotten. I know what women like to hear." She shrugged in a very challenging way. "And I can, faster than any other person in this entire establishment, fix people up. It's like a special talent."

"Who cares," Saitou drawled in annoyance "let's just drink."

There were dirty looks thrown at him from all parties involved, but they raised their spirits again, saluting one another before drinking; and just like last time, they drank the beer in its entirety at only one go. They put them down with a smile and slapped the table.

"You should really watch how much you drink," Saitou scolded her again "you've barely been here five minutes."

"Pfff, I can drink you all under the table."

Saitou was having none of that. "No, you can't; and why should you?"

"Are you her father, Saitou?" Harada mocked. "Let the woman drink, if she so desires."

"Look, no matter how much she drinks, she'll never drink enough to find you attractive," Saitou shot him down immediately "so stop trying to flag down Toudou's potential bed-warmer."

"Ah!" Harada and Tokio exclaimed at the same time.

"Don't call Umi-chan that!"

"And don't say ridiculous things like that," Harada tried to salvage the situation as much as he could. "I, I don't want to get Tokio-san drank."

"Not anymore you don't," Nagakura dragged it on "now that you know she wouldn't fall for you anyhow."

"Stop teasing him," Tokio commanded "or soon enough I'll have to perform a spell on him."

That diffused the tension enough, making them all laugh; just then, Umi came back with two more waitresses, all carrying tankards for the people at the table. "These are on the house," she informed when they all looked between themselves, trying to discern who ordered "for all you did today..." She gave a small bow. "We all saw you and are very thankful."

"Aw, so nice of you," Tokio said, truly touched "thank you, Umi-chan." She looked around to make sure these three barmaids were all the barmaids of the pub. "Why don't you sit and drink with us this round?"

The women looked around surprised, thankful and trying to detect anyone who'd disagree; when none such parties were found, they shamelessly sat in men's laps and took a mug in their hands. Umi-chan made it a point to sit in Toudou's and he mouthed a "you're the best" to Tokio, who only giggled.

"Bottoms up!" Okita announced and they all drank greedily. "That's good alcohol," he exclaimed, wiping his lips from the excess froth. The shortest barmaid, who had sat in his lap, kissed his cheek in a tizzy and ran away to the rest of her orders.

Umi-chan laughed but was cut short when Toudou gave her a quick peck on the shoulder, the same one he had supposedly complimented and the woman flushed a deep red, but did not seem to mind. "I, I'll go now, go help the rest...I'll bring you three more drinks, to replace the ones we had," she informed and followed the second waitress.

"Better kiss _me_ , you know," Nagakura's voice cut in as he watched the last waitress struggle with what she wanted to do "coz if you kiss _him_ , he'll probably throw you away."

 _Him_ , referred to Saitou who said nothing when the woman had chosen him but made it clear in his expression he wanted nothing to do with his friends' tomfoolery. "I wouldn't _throw_ you but...yeah," he defended himself and when all the people present laughed, the woman felt a little better. Without thinking, she stood and planted a fleeting kiss on Nagakura's cheek.

"It'd be bad luck if I didn't kiss someone, too." She winked at the bespectacled man and left.

"See?" Tokio was triumphant. "Best matchmaker in town...!" Although, she wouldn't lie; when that woman chose to sit in Saitou's lap something inside her kicked. Maybe it was instinct: no woman should have to contend with him, especially unknowing of the danger that lay with this man.

"What a manipulator..." Saitou provoked her.

"You're just mean because you haven't had enough to drink yet," Okita coaxed "but worry not; drinks are on their way."

"Hopefully."

Umi brought the supplementary mugs and the three men took them in their hands. "Let's see who's the fastest—bottoms up people!"

In this game of speed, Saitou was the victor; Okita came a close second. "Damn," Tokio lamented, being the third to hit her mug on the table "I really wanted to win!"

"Maybe you win next round, Tokio-chan!"

"Stop trying to get her drunk," Saitou protested "that's two of you so far."

"Oh _please_ , they wish."

"Is that a challenge, Tokio-san?" Harada's tone was full of promise.

"That is a fact," she retorted.

"That's irresponsible," Saitou tried to reason with them.

"Boo, spoilsport!" Okita threw some of the food on their table at his face. "Let us have a drinking competition!"

"No way," Tokio refused "I'm not wasting my spells on your puking asses."

"We won't be puking your highness...!" Nagakura goaded.

"Yes, but this isn't viable with so many people; I can't compete with all of you—that's six drinks for one!"

"What if we take turns?"

Everyone looked at Harada the same way. "Then it's the same, only reverse; if more than one person drink, then we'll never get drunk," Toudou explained.

"Idiot," Saitou had to insult him – "Hey!" he feigned offense but none paid attention to him –.

"We just have to find one person; the heaviest drinker among us."

Saitou snorted. "That's impossible; that's me but I refuse."

"Oh? Is that it?" Okita elbowed Nagakura. "Are you maybe afraid of a little competition, then?" Saitou was not impressed. "Or are you scared of losing your title to a woman?"

"Of course not."

He snubbed; Tokio laughed. They touched a nerve, she could see his defenses waning. "I have no issue, whoever it is," she coaxed.

"See? She's up for it." Harada played his part.

"Why should my decision be affected by a third party?"

"Because she's cute?" Okita wondered innocently; Tokio forced a toothy smile; they all roared with laughter. "And she talked way too big of a game before, I want to see her limits."

"Not in a million years, my friend."

"Alright, now it does start getting annoying. I have a very high tolerance to alcohol," Saitou kindly let her know "and many years of practice."

"Right back at you."

He glared, but it was less pointed and more calculative. "Fine, you little shadow mastermind," he ignored the way she laughed "I will do this; for my captain's honour. But don't expect me to hold your hair back at the end of the night...!"

Shrewd looks were exchanged between the rest; they immediately called for Umi-chan, informing her of the upcoming battle. "I'll keep the drinks coming, then," she assured, determined to watch this to the end herself "and once you're finished, I'm going home for the night." A wink towards Toudou's direction; hook, bait and sinker. He winked back and, much like everyone else, waited for the upcoming, exciting fight.

.

.

"Just let it all out," Tokio's smooth voice instructed "all out; you'll feel better."

Her one hand was gently rubbing the back of the most stubborn man in the face of the universe, while the other held his long hair back; the irony of the moment wasn't lost whatsoever. It was very late and very embarrassing; the moment he admitted defeat, the entire pub roared with laughter or cheered for the woman's victory. Not one of the soldiers held back or even stayed back to help. The captains were all but gone, too, save Okita, who stuck around to laugh at him a little longer than necessary. Toudou had left with Umi-chan, Nagakura escorted the frilly Rei back home while Harada headed right back to camp; Takeda had, too though long before the contest was over.

Thus, only victor and loser remained back, kneeling in front of a drain next to the stables, close to their horses. She was putting in quite an effort not to laugh too much lest he realises by her shaking or her shadow. After another impressive show of internal bowels movement, he groaned miserably. "I have never gotten...like this before..."

She was so proud when she didn't end up dying of laughter right then and there. "Then have you ever really drank before?"

"Sh...shut up..." he resisted the urge to vomit "you manipulative priestess."

She did giggle this once. "Don't hold it in, we'll be here forever," especially since he wouldn't let her magic his problem away solely on principal—and pride.

"This is so demeaning..."

"Could be worse; could be Takeda in your place."

"That's better."

"Not for me, it isn't."

He found it in him to chuckle; but that somehow triggered his gag reflex and once more emptied some of his stomach contents in the drain in front of them. "I'm never drinking with you again..."

"Aw, don't say that; I had a lovely time."

"You're not the one puking that's why...hell, you are barely...lightheaded. What's...up with that?"

She shrugged innocently. "Told you."

"So...lemme get this straight: alcohol doesn't affect you as much as it affects _me_ , the heaviest drinker of the squad, fires from a fabled beast's eye sockets don't burn you quite as much as everyone else and you effortlessly heal deadly injuries...you managed to fight off and scare a...mythical dragon that almost killed us _all_ and could fight better with a sword than any ovus...then you...killed the damn thing for good measure, after what felt like...you came back from...the dead." A pause, to collect his addled mind. "Tokio."

He looked back at her just for a second, as long as he could stay focused; then he turned around, lurched and puked for the umpteenth time. "What in earth...are you? Why...did the Empress send you with us?"

He heard her sigh and he almost patted himself in the back for it. "I am just more experienced than you; and in no way am I more skilled with the blade than you, it's just, I had a vorpal sword with me. It happened."

"How...?"

"Like I said, I'm just more experienced. And that's what clerics do, you know; effortlessly heal others. When you get to my level, you can even bring people back from the dead, if their soul hasn't passed on anyhow. And, well, there are restrictions of course, but, ugh, I'm veering way off track." She shook her head. "Just know that this is what healers do."

He snorted. "Even bring themselves back from the dead?"

What was he saying? Why was he vomiting words as well as food? He didn't mean to broach this subject like this, he wanted to be sober and very aware; but now he was babbling and being pathetic and he had shamed himself too much for one night, there was no need to add insult to injury. But there he was! He knew this weighed on him, but this much?

"Okay, you got me there; that's a rather rare skill. In fact, I haven't met anyone else who can do it but I _know of_ others, you know? And I didn't really bring myself from the back, let it be known; this is an ability I acquired through a lot of training and life threatening situations: every time I am about to pass out due to excessive damage, this triggers and heals some. It's a fail-safe and only buys me, what, a minute, at best; if I don't make my next move count, I'm not coming back...!"

A chill still passed right through him, like electricity. Did she just admit she was about to die? Who says things like that with such a cheery tone, too? His eyes snapped to her, disbelieving and she bit her lip guiltily; damn her and her big mouth. She didn't mean to admit it to anyone, it just slipped because the drink had started getting to her and, and she didn't think he'd pick up on it, too, so wasted that he was. But shit, he was always so sharp, it was very unaccommodating.

He reached a hand out, leaving it to rest on her cheek. He had no idea if he was secretly trying to keep himself upright – he swayed a little too much for his liking – but he was proud to observe she did not look alarmed at his motion. He struggled to look at her for some time, headache too strong; and why did everything have to move when he was perfectly still? But then he focused on her nose and lips, because her eyes were too bright for him that moment.

"Why would you...go so far...to risk your life for us...?" He watched her nose twitch, lips parting in slight confusion. Or maybe hesitation, he couldn't be sure. "Why, when...we've been...and I'm..."

"Hajime," she grabbed his hand with hers, trying to calm him down "relax, try to breathe. This isn't the best time to discuss this."

"I know, but...why are you...always so kind? It...isn't fair. I can't be mean to you."

Her laughter sounded so light and...gentle, how could it sound gentle? How much did he have to drink? "Mmm, it's a mystery, indeed...!" His hand fell in her lap and he nearly keeled over. "Oh dear...!" She had to put her own body as a shield to the cold, dirty ground.

"I'm so pathetic...!" he mumbled as he tried to push off of her, but failed.

"No, you're drunk." She patted his back. "You'll be back to form by tomorrow, don't worry about it. Can you walk?" He tried to push off again, but it didn't work. She sighed. "Hajime, you and I are going to take a little trip together now, yes?" Her hand found its way underneath his shoulder. "I will put you on my horse and we're going to go back to camp."

"I'm dead weight; I'm useless...!"

"You're fine," she encouraged as she pushed off the ground.

"Why couldn't _you_ have gotten drunk, huh? W...women are cute when they are stumbling all over you with pink cheeks...but it's just sad when it's a man. I detest this."

"You have surprisingly good articulation for a man so out of it, way to go."

"Sh...ut up, priestess. Flattery...will get you...nowhere..."

She propped him up against her faithful stallion; with a little bit help from the animal, she managed to get him on top of the horse, lying on his stomach like a trophy. The image was quite amusing, as she stood from a distance. Then, she grabbed the reigns of his horse and with a small nudge, she led both horses away and towards their encampment.

It took three times as long to get there, but oh well, they finally did, without incident. Then, she had to ride all the way to his tent, after leaving his horse to the pen, get him off and drag him to his bed. Knowing her way around by now, being in there twice already, she easily found it, depositing him in it. He groaned and moaned and protested but, in the end, he allowed her to take off his sandals, remove the hitatare and cover him with a blanket. When she was done, she looked over her work. His ponytail came undone from all the tussling and turning; his lips were slightly parted as he already snored loudly, nothing but a head visible.

There may have been red cheeks there, too; _how cute_.

* * *

 **A/N** : I know, right? Huge! But, I did include a hell of a lot of plot points.

Also, Tokio is such a badass in this story, I adore her. Just so you know my dedication to this story and being authentic all abilities shown in this piece of literature correspond perfectly with the actual table top game pathfinder, in which Tokio is an 18 lvl Cleric with 4 Mythic Tiers. Hajime and the rest of the gang are 15, 16 level samurai, also a legit class. And the Jabberwock exists, too and it's hella strong. I even threw dice and everything (but, to further the purposes of the story I may have doctored Saitou's dice a little).

Anywho, thank you for stopping by, I love you. Please leave a review on your way out to tell me what you thought about it! I rarely write about things like these and feedback is important.

Love, hugs and kisses,  
FAI~!


	8. The Priestess and the Grump, Part four

**A/N** : Hello peeps! How are you? How have you been? Look, look, another update...in the wrong story. I mean, I really love this story and I want to write it and apparently so does my muse but damn I write this so much, I have no energy left for the other one. I am sorry; but mostly in the sense I am delaying the other story, not for writing this because this is easily turning into one of my fave AUs and I can't wait to get the rest of it out there.

No proofreading coz my eyes hurt so much right now...

Anywho! I love you and I hope you bear with me well, lovelies. Thank you for everything.

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

"Good morning, Saitou-san!"

He groaned. "Do you have to be so obnoxiously loud?" He'd barely set foot in the mess-hall tent, it must have been some sort of crime, giving him hell so early.

"It's not everyday we get to see you hangover," Nagakura defended the short, beaming man "let us enjoy it."

"You don't look as terrible as we'd have expected," Toudou comforted him, the pat on the back feeling like regular assault to his overwhelmed senses.

He snorted; they hadn't seen him when he opened his eyes. "That's because I drank a horrible concoction the minute I woke up and ate the world's most unappetizing ration."

They chuckled. "Where did you find them?" Harada wondered out loud.

"I saw Tokio-chan sneaking into his tent, holding something that looked a lot like that!" He laughed. "Well, not sneaking in exactly; she kicked the poor door open, since her hands were occupied. I was sure you'd wake up at that, but nope, you just kept on snoring." A shrug. "Half a moment later she was out."

Saitou shook his head, which he regretted when he felt the entire world dance around him; he still had time to catch the glares and wistful sighs of the four men next to him. "I'm so jealous," Harada admitted a second later.

"I'd get drunk twice as bad, if it meant she'd kick into my tent, bearing gifts," Nagakura lamented.

Usually, he'd scold them or be sarcastic at their stupidity, but, be it the drink or the overall mood of victory that still did not and would not any time soon wash away, he smirked at them and decided to make them even more jealous. For some reason, it irked him they were behaving like this, too and decided to be extra mean. "She even left little notes with instructions; one said: __Drink me all at once__ and the other: __Eat me slowly__ _._ "

A sound one should not make so early in the morning, and definitely not in the presence of so many men, came out of Toudou's mouth. "I would let __three Jabberwock snack on my intestines__ if I could get Tokio-san to speak those two little sentences to me personally!"

"Hey! You have Umi-chan for the week," Harada snubbed, slapping his shoulder "leave Tokio-chan alone."

But then Okita slapped Harada's shoulder. "Only I can call Tokio-chan, Tokio-chan; if you wanna call her something special, find your own."

Nagakura slapped Okita's though. "You don't have exclusivity on honorifics, squirt; if you think it's special you have no real imagination."

Then Toudou slapped Saitou's shoulder and everyone looked at him funnily. "What, he was the only one out of the loop."

"Idiot." For good measure, he hit him upside the head, a little harder on purpose. "Now go, let me eat in peace."

Okita clicked his tongue in distaste. "We were about to go anyway...!"

As they walked out of the tent, still arguing about what is the best, cutest and most original thing to call Tokio, he had to massage his temples to even attempt and put his thoughts in order. So focused that he was, he never noticed the soldier leaving a plate of food in front of him – with a chuckle no less, what an asshole – he just started eating out of habit. Try as he might, he could not distinguish fiction from fact. Apparently he engaged in a drinking competition with Tokio and lost; but had he really talked to her? Had she really said that...? He could not remember if it was true or not—it felt too otherworldly. Why would she risk her life for their sorry asses? They did nothing but underestimate and underutilize her, especially him. Why should she care—and why did she bring him food in his tent?

Wait, wait, wait. They weren't spiked with magic, were they? He only just now realised, as he was munching down his strip of bacon, the noises all around him and even outside only increased and ye, he was feeling...fine. No headache. No burning need to slap all men in a five metre radius. He gobbled down his breakfast – eggs, bacon and cheese with a slice of bread – washed it down with his tea and took off!

He ignored the looks he received from the men inside the tent, or outside, as he was all but stomping and running into people, trying to locate her. When he couldn't, for the life of him, do so, he wearily turned to the closest person who would be able to provide him with that information: the snake. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.

"Takeda."

He knew he'd find him in the command centre, poring over maps. Not that he did anything more than plan escapes with the knowledge, but even that was useful, in case anything went wrong—the sole reason he never kicked him out.

"Acting vice-commander," he bowed; ever since Saitou was given his current rank the snake had been too cordial with him "what can I help you with?"

The request died on his lips when he saw Tokio right there, in the tent with him, who just then snatched away whatever the snake was holding in his sweaty palms, a triumphant "aha!" escaping her. He watched the exchange with interest. He decided to ask for something else, see if his instinct was correct.

"Is there any correspondence for the unit?"

"Yes," he was vexed to admit, glaring at Tokio who was now happily reading away at the piece of paper in her hands "all of __these__." He gestured to the table behind him, usually maps laid out on it, but this once he could only see letters; envelopes; missives; rolls of parchment; and all bore the seal of a different house. "And, should Tokio-sama relinquish it, the one she's reading as well."

"This was addressed to the unit's commander; in Kondou and Hijikata's absence that's Hajime and myself; why shouldn't I read it?"

"This letter was sent by Hijikata-sama himself!"

"All the more reason then..."

Saitou decided to bring their little argument to an end and effortlessly took the paper from her hands, seeing he was that much taller and Tokio was not expecting such a sneak attack; she instantly turned her attention towards him, pout immediate and impressive on her face. He shook his head. "Leave us, Takeda," was the only thing he said and waited till the man left to do the two things he wanted: a) confront Tokio and b) read this letter...and then all the rest. So, raising the piece of paper even higher, way out of her reach, he dangled it.

"Did you spike my food and drink with anything?" She was taken aback. "Answer truthfully and you shall receive this letter."

"I did not," she spoke through chuckles "I simply gave you Darren's cure-all-hangovers brew; it's a disgusting thing that, when combined with greasy food, much like the eggs and bacon I asked the cook to give you, is a surefire way to keep all bender's consequences away."

"Is that so?" She nodded, innocent and expectant. He shook his head and almost handed it over, but then he found what didn't quite click. "Who's Darren?"

"Darren is a very good friend of mine, met him when I traveled to the West." Her smile transitioned to nostalgic. "He's dependable, but also convinced he'll die before turning thirty...so, he drinks a lot, to cope." A giggle. "It was in his company that I started I developing my high tolerance."

"Doesn't sound all that dependable," Saitou commented, a little too critical; he had no idea why but this casual mention of her life before the unit, and with such a fond smile, displeased him.

"He was, he was," she assured, patting his shoulder "almost as much as you, but he lacked the ethics, too."

He growled, unappreciative of her comparison. "Whatever it was, it worked; thank him, I guess."

"Well, that is almost impossible right now; he lives in Sandpoint." He didn't seem to understand her issue. "Avistan." There it was, recognition. "Besides, and most importantly, he's married to the easiest to get jealous woman of the entire continent! For good reason, I suppose; when they first met he'd flirt with anyone that'd sleep with him." She shrugged. "Then he finally fell in love and settled down but she doesn't seem to get it."

"I wouldn't blame her."

Suddenly, her face became a far cry from the warm nostalgia it was, turning a little sour. "It was in that man's presence I finally learnt how low the human race is willing to stoop, in search of a nightly partner."

"So dependable," he repeated, sarcasm almost palpable. She slapped his chest.

"Shut up, he was strong; he was really strong. Well, as far as that time of my life was concerned; my standards have changed now."

"Right; now you kill mythical creatures all on your own."

Her eyes lowered guiltily at that, but didn't leave. "I, uh, know I owe you all an explanation, I sort of promised, yesterday night, too." A sigh. "But it isn't anything terrible or convoluted really..."

She just said she sort of promised yesterday night—so it was true. He did confront her about it. And she did tell him that she almost... "Then what is it?"

"It's a long story that starts with me going to the west to escape the Regent. Do you really want to hear it?"

"Yes."

She had really hoped he was deterred and when she saw that wasn't the case, she almost pulled on her hair! "Just sit down."

She gestured to the chairs around the table; she dragged the one to be opposite the other and sat across from him, stealing the letter in the process. "The whole truth is I myself influenced my father to send me so far away, instead of just stashing my somewhere in Tian Xia as he'd originally wanted. Not only would I be truly out of reach, but, my second and third goal would be better served: hone my skills as a cleric by adventuring and, most importantly, search for the true successor of the throne." Surprise marred his features and she was almost proud. "It was revealed to me that the heir was a woman as well as her family had hidden in Avistan.  
It took me a year to actually _get_ there; it was a very difficult journey, we almost didn't make it. But we persevered and once the Crown Jewel was behind us, all became easier—forces of nature are harder to contend with than people. No matter, I got to Avistan and found myself facing a dilemma: start looking for her immediately, or make myself stronger first? A man in the caravan, whom I still traveled with, helped me then; he said, _ _I'm going to Sandpoint. That's where adventurers are made__ ; I followed.  
There I met a young woman of Tian descend, too, I was so exited...! We became fast friends. She was a little older than me, but you know, when you find someone like you...!" She shook her head for getting distracted. "Anyway, she owned the Rusty Dragon, quite the famous joint; that's where all the adventurers gathered for a drink or to discuss jobs. She urged me towards the right direction, I made some connections and I got to work.  
Naturally, when one is so removed from their home and environment they try to adapt, yet, at the same time, I held even tighter to my roots: I'd pray twice a day to my unheard of in these parts God and try to be as compliant to our customs as possible." A smile escaped her. "Then I met four crazy people, with whom I started building friendships and bonds. We became a party, went through so much together—Darren was one of them—and no matter what, we always returned to the Rusty Dragon for a drink and catching up with the woman who reminded me so much of home.  
Yet the more you spend away from home, the more you demystify it your head; I stood back and looked critically at things. I incorporated their customs to ours and threw away what I felt was unnecessary. It didn't take long for my skills to really shine after that! Not to mention, we undertook _**quite**_ the project with the party, we had to get better at everything or die." She shrugged. "By the end of that, we were one party member short."

He noticed how she paused then, face bowing to something unseen and kept her silence for a little longer before going on. "Two more died after her, but those two, I had the power to save." She sighed. "It's never a good experience to lose people you care about...anyway, the deed was done, the job was successful, beaten and tired, we returned to Sandpoint to tell our friend all about this crazy ordeal.  
Thing is, she was gone! The beautiful owner of the Rusty Dragon and a party of additional seven members, had left Sandopint...and were heading to Tian Xia."

Tokio closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I have no idea how I could have been so blind; nor why I never mentioned my true goal of being there but, turns out, the beautiful bar owner of the Rusty Dragon, Kaijutsu Ameiko" when Saitou's expression changed to that unmistakable I-knew-it grimace she realised she didn't need to go on, but did anyway "was in fact Amatatsu Ameiko, last rightful heir of the Jade throne and the only person who could bring an end to the Jade Regent's tyranny and save Minkai."

Groaning, she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. "Two years! I spent two years of my life in her company. How did I not see it? How did I let her go without me!?" More dying cat noises came from her, shame overbearing; he almost smiled. "She had been convinced to come back and take her rightful place while I was too busy liberating Avistan from another potential tyrant." A cry of frustration was soon to follow. "Which I don't regret, don't get me wrong, the guy needed to go away, but...but...ugh! That was my biggest goal and I missed it! Right under my nose..."

She finally let go of her face, her shame and regret and stood straight. "I bid goodbye to my party members, then, took a day to gather all the essentials and immediately took the way home. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was nothing like what I was before; I knew I'd reach Minkai before they ever did—it had barely been a month since they left. So, I took a couple of detours, got mixed up in things maybe I shouldn't have and when I came back, lo and behold...I was right. Her Majesty had not yet arrived. So, I holed myself up in some tower and patiently waited for her arrival."

She shook her head entirely too disappointed in herself. "But I was proven wrong once more; the Empress's party never came by the place I was staying and when she emerged, I had no idea; I only got wind of it when I heard about turbulence in the capital." A sigh. "I was late to the fray, but, hey, in the end I joined. And although it wasn't that first decisive battle which dethroned the Regent, I helped with everything else—cleaned up some of the provinces, too." Suddenly, she giggled. "You should have seen her face when she saw me again, barely recognised me behind all the armour. But was too quick to utilize me, to her credit. After that, I asked her to make me her personal healer...yet without me actually being there."

"Pardon?"

"Those beads are handy; I made ten for her Majesty. They, too, instantly transport me to her, should she break them. I told her, I'll be doing my own thing, away from the palace, but _if you ever need me, I'm one bead away_. She agreed, gave me her blessing, some credentials, and I went on my merry way."

Saitou was confused. "Why the deception?"

Her smile was scolding. "I didn't want to go back home, Hajime; my father and I would endlessly argue about my duties to the family and myself and how, according to him, I should go back, get married and start my own family; he can't argue with the Empress though!"

He clicked his tongue. "You really are manipulative..."

"My family has no clue as to my true power and I prefer to keep it that way, unless something terrible happens and I have to step in."

"But now we know."

"Yes; but you won't tell, will you?"

Her smile was wider and her story finished; he could tell because her fingers fidgeted with the letter – that she was itching to read – as well as the arms of her chair. But she still gave him time to digest all of it, knowing it was too much to take it, and remained until he posed any questions. "So, you're best friends with her highness?"

She burst out laughing. "That's what stayed with you out of the entire tale?" Running a hand through her hair, she calmed herself. "We are still friendly but naturally, the terms have changed; she's the Empress and I'm the strongest cleric of the land."

"So, when she asked you to come join us, what were you doing?"

"Adventuring, around Tian Xia, long past Minkai. She broke a bead, I showed up and she asked me to heal her; once I did, she told me of her plan. Knowing my desire for absolute independence, she assured me I'd get a piece of land for myself."

"Oh, no money?"

"Please," she wasn't even kidding with her dismissive tone "I have enough of that saved to build and sustain a city half the size of Minkai for five years. Adventuring is profitable, especially when you have the ability to bring rich people back from the dead." She chuckled. "Don't worry; I made sure I knew the entire story—I didn't accidentally bring back any Jade Regents..." She shrugged. "But I knew what I wanted and I knew what I had to do to get it."

"Your inheritance?"

"That's safely back at my family home; I never touched it, other than those first funds to leave the continent. I don't need to, really."

He was both impressed yet annoyed. "And to think I called you a spoiled daddy's girl..." He snorted. "If I were you, I'd have punched me in the face."

"W, well," she started through chuckles "you and I are not the same; and you were half as terrible as you think, simply because I didn't pay any attention to you."

"Hey!"

"It was either that or I would actively try to win each and every battle you ever participated out of you."

"...fine, you win. It could be worse."

He started getting used to her laughter and distinguish its moods; if it was something she thought was hilarious, it was boisterous and she'd throw her head back. If it was self-induced, there'd be small hiccups in there. If it was something funny but a little insulting, she'd cover her mouth and look down, making it as silent as possible. And, much like now, if it was something like this, she would shake a little, make some sound but ultimately cough to stop. "Anyway, that's my long-winded story," she finished then, absently realising she ruined her hair from their bun "I ask you not to share any controversial details, like my relationship with her highness or my amassed personal fortune."

For some reason, she knew she didn't even need to say it. There was no way he'd talk or let something slip—the driving force behind her sharing it with him. Likewise, he knew she'd ask him to keep it a secret, but even before she sat him down, he had no intention of telling anyone anything. If anyone ever asked, he'd say something in the lines of "she's had more experience than us" and be over with it. It felt like this was...something special between them and if he did share, he'd spoil it. After all he'd put her through, too, it felt all the more special she'd confine in him, so, just to make up for all the awfulness, he would never spill.

Just as she was about to leave her chair, a last question stopped her. "You never answered one thing though." She looked back doubtful. "Why would you risk your life for us?" Her expression never changed but her cheeks, gaining colour with every second that went by without an answer, betrayed her state of mind. "Don't expect me to have forgotten because I was drunk when you let it slip." Her traitorous cheeks burned brighter. "Why?"

"I...could not live with myself if anything happened to you."

"But you just said you can bring people back from the d—ead, hey!"

She hit him on the head with the back of her hand. "I'm a cleric; the best way to keep someone healthy is to heal their wounds not let them die and bring them back. Besides, what if your souls were judged before I could get to you? What would I do then?"

"...we are under your care, but not your responsibility." He stood from his chair and she was way too close because she had to lean back not to collide with him. "If there's ever the choice of us or you again, choose you." She looked down, ready to reject him in her own, delicate way but he pressed on. "You owe us nothing, no matter what." He took a step forward, causing her to stumble and fall back in her chair. "People who have goals in their life should work hard towards them. Don't let a false sense of duty take that away from you. Besides," he put his hands on the chair's arms "if anything happened to you, many people would cry; no one will cry for us, priestess." She swallowed. "We are expendable; the very reason we were sent on this quest. Why the Empress thought it'd be a good idea to send you with us I don't know, but don't be an idiot. You have to outlive everyone."

"She didn't send me," she finally cracked under the pressure and couldn't help but looking away "she only told me of her plan and I demanded to be put on your team, otherwise you'd all die. It isn't right, for anyone to consider themselves dispensable. Nobility or not, you are people; the same things that make you up, make all of the rich and famous up, too—I should know, that's what I do. I didn't know how you'd react but I hadn't cared. I don't care for tradition that treats people as objects to begin with. So, if you tell me I shouldn't have given up my one life for all five of you, I find that extremely sad. If you're telling me I shouldn't have given up my life because that automatically means that more deaths could not be prevented down the line...that I accept. But it's the __only__ argument I shall accept."

She flicked her hair then, slapping one of his two hands in the process. "I shall read the letter now. Why don't you start reading, too?"

He slowly moved to the pile, deciding to pick one from the bottom. His eyes slid to her just for a second and then went back to his letter. "You are impossibly stubborn." She hummed absently. "And quite...nontraditional. I do not approve."

She snorted. "Of course you don't."

"At least not wholly."

"That's fine; I don't expect you to agree with me. I just want you to understand." He said nothing further and she took it as a sign of agreeing.

Some time passed; they sat there in silence and they were surprised to find it wasn't at all uncomfortable. "I am finished with Hijikata's letter," she informed, standing up and moving for the pile herself "you may read it, too."

She just noticed he never moved the chair from opposite her but somehow she hadn't seen or sensed him sitting there. He had about ten letters in his lap, two of them opened, thus read. At her suggestion, he groaned, never looking up; well, she couldn't blame him! They had many letters to go through. "Just tell me the important parts, unless there's something that I have to read, too."

"He says he's confident the meeting will finally be over in a day or so, so we shouldn't leave before he returns; he congratulates us on our victory and thanks us because now he has bragging but most importantly bargaining rights."

Good old Hijikata. "He also praises us for our excellent judgment and unprecedented patience since we're both still alive, from what he gathers." Something between laughter and crying escaped the man, hand on his forehead. "And that's pretty much it; I'll go grab half the remaining letters now."

"Be my guest," he muttered darkly. She patted his shoulder; they'd be there for a long time.

The more letters they read, the worse their nerves got; most of these were pompous letters of thanks but many incorporated requests for favours and odd jobs here and there. They were all lords or some sort of nobility, thus, they assured, had the money to pay for their services. Still, they weren't mercenaries who did this for fame, so it was a little troublesome to think they suddenly had so much work to do. It wasn't as if Hijikata wouldn't milk this for all it got...

But then, the second to last letter held something of interest. Saitou's eyebrows rose the more he read and he seemed to be genuinely surprised. "What," Tokio asked suspiciously when she noticed he almost smirked.

"This is a letter of thanks...addressed directly at you." She gave him the most owlish stare; he did smirk in the end. "The writer claims you're the best thing since wrought iron" she giggled; she bet that wasn't the way it was phrased, but how he chose to phrase it himself "calls you the bravest person in a bunch of ways, assures you your beauty is absolutely on par" she laughed at that "and extends an invitation to attend a festival that will be held in our honour."

The more he paraphrased, the less decorum was upheld; he inflected, nearly mocked until he finished, hard pressed to sound serious. "Naturally, there will be a dinner held for us, too-"

"How grand," she commented.

"-at his private estate...which, his son will be organising." Silence. "Oh."

"I think—are you sure this was addressed to me?" He nodded mutely. "I think this person's son wants to _formally court_ me."

"I think so, too."

She shrugged. "Tough; I have no intention of being courted by anyone."

"It's not like I approve of this but...you can't say no. They will hold a festival in our honour; and a dinner." He looked at the letter again. "In a day, after they receive our response."

"Where are they located?"

"Close, if they not only know but even wrote to us about the beast and we have it in our hands; basically, in two days from now."

"I am flattered but I cannot attend such a gathering; I have managed to slither away from a dozen of these things back in the capital! I won't be outdone by a country bumpkin with a large fortune."

"We can't say no, Tokio, don't even think about it. Instead, think what Hijikata would say."

It was her turn to groan now. "Fine," she started and he pat her back once in approval but he was too soon to celebrate victory because she wasn't done yet "but one of you fine lads must come with me."

"...it's not unreasonable."

"Perfect! I'll tell the snake to draft the reply." He gave her a nod. "Do tell though Hajime, which one of you will join me?"

"Whoever, I don't care." He considered for a moment. "Maybe Okita; I don't trust Harada around you too much—or Toudou." A moment. " _ _Especially__ Toudou," he reconfirmed, remembering their talk that same morning. "Okita or Nagakura it is. Meh," he said then again, cutting the list even shorter "not him, either. Just Okita; take Okita."

"Glad to see you don't care about this at all..."

She had to laugh at the way he looked up at her, a look that escorted her all the way out of the tent.

.

"What part of __take Okita__ did you not understand?"

"Yes, but, we both didn't think of one little problem, which Okita picked up on in an instant" he leaned a little forward, seeing she was building up suspense on purpose "what are we going to wear to that thing?"

Saitou's face fell and the letter in his hand almost followed; it was the answer to their reply—turns out, the city was four hours worth the trip on horseback and just as soon as their messenger arrived, the father and son duo grabbed him and did not let go until after they had read their reply. Overjoyed, they wrote back that they were expected tomorrow at five, both her and her escort, _ _Saitou Hajime__ ; they would meet them at the gates half an hour earlier to show them around before the festival.

Hence, they'd have to wear something nicer than armour to the damn thing, as both father and son would join them for the entire day while they had no time to go shopping for a new garment. So "someone who already has something to wear should escort you."

"And that is," she urged him to go on.

"Me." She nodded morosely. "Damn it!"

"On the flip side," she tried to find something positive "you will be able to meet with a local lord; getting your name out there is a great thing."

"If Hijikata thinks that's my reason, even for a moment, I'll end up as the stable boy." She was not amused. "It's more likely than you think," he defended himself.

"Whatever; we're going. If one of you doesn't come, I'm not going."

That was obviously non-negotiable. He muttered a couple of dark things under his breath then, about lords and their need to flaunt their wealth and went on his way. "Nagakura will be left in our stead," he barked before he disappeared; she did not refuse him.

.

.

"Tokio-chan, Tokio-chan; can I come in?"

"Yes."

Okita's head came in first; then followed the rest of him, slowly and steadily. He was the first man to enter her tent and he could not help but feel very satisfied with himself for it. He was going to strut at first, but then he saw the grandeur of the inside of her tent and he was too impressed to do anything more than numbly walk inside.

There was a large circular carpet, that covered every inch of the ground her tent sheltered. It was emerald, with golden dragons and red details that were supposed to be the dragon's fiery breath. To the direct left of the tent was a wooden mannequin that donned her armour and next to it, a small wooden structure, fairly simple, where all of her weapons stood. On the right, there was a beautiful, carved table made of dark, almost black wood; it had cravings of vines and beautiful flowers. Behind it, a modest chair. On top of it a bunch of things he didn't know and some letters. But then there was a relatively small bookcase, filled to the brim, a match to the desk with identical carvings and the same colour scheme; a black settee, with a green cushion and gold-trimmed details, stood after the bookcase.

To the far end was a matching closet and a traditional Minkaian bed, futon and everything all laid out. A ricepaper screen with a wooden sceleton stood close to the edge, next to the closet; it was the one thing standing between her and any prying eyes.

"I have never seen so much luxury in one room before."

"Is that why you came here this time of day?" Half past twelve, in fact; she had just finished dressing and she was looking at her reflection in the mirror.

Hair were up in an elaborate bun, jade pin to secure the entire do; no make up but a single application of red lipstick, and of course, one of her favourite, simpler dresses: a three layered kimono, barely scraping the ground at her feet. Okay, maybe dragging a little, but still, it wasn't too much—perfect for a festival. The first layer was black, only the collar visible; then there was a red layer, only collar visible again, as well as a little bit of fabric at the bust; then the final and the impressive layer came, an amazingly threaded plain green kimono, same jade as her pin, with golden hibiscus leaves and stems that led to the blossom of the same flower, only that one was red.

"No, silly! I need to ask you—oooh." Just then she stepped out behind the mirror and Okita whistled; she laughed. "Looking good, Tokio-chan!" He wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm starting to regret my decision to forgo the invitation."

"Too late now," she feigned the drama in her voice "your choice has been made."

He sighed. "Sadly, I know; which is why I came here on the first place. Saitou-san requires your assistance" he announced brightly; the confusion in her eyes made him chuckle. "He has the clothes to wear, but not the know-how."

 _Of course_.

She should have known. There was no way that man had ever wore anything like that, even if he did have it with him. Any respectable young lord, disowned or not, would have; but she could bet both her hands it was Hijikata who convinced him to keep it. She tried not to laugh too much at the idea. "Alright, I'm going."

Okita didn't trouble himself with escorting her, and she reached the tent in record time; she made herself known as she entered the tent by quipping "Tokio to the rescue," cheerily. "What seems to be the problem?"

His back was turned; he was struggling with one of the two obi this thing had. "This damn thing is a goddamn puzzle; I've been fightling with it for half an hour."

"That's because," she tried not to laugh too much "you're doing it backwards." She noticed how committed to the task he was, still not turning to her. "Let me help."

Her voice came from too close and he finally turned to see her, just as she had began inspecting him. She shook her head "you're hopeless. Hold out your hands, please..."

Just then, she realised he wasn't compliant; she looked up to see his face for the first time, sensing his gaze on her and was quite startled to find him simpering. As if that was his cue, his smirk became even more crooked and he said "I thought you said you weren't looking for a husband," in a very pointedly teasing way.

She pouted. "I am not."

"With sleeves so long and shoulders exposed like this?" She pursed her lips, hands tying in front of her chest as he shook his head. "How misleading."

"Do you want my help or not?" was all she said in return and he had to chuckle.

Giving in then, he extended his hands on either side as she had asked him; she instantly turned her eyes to the clothes. "This is quite easy, you know," she continued as she examined him "the problem is you've put the first layer last."

"But that is the—"

"—basis, so it has the largest collar, hence, it remains popping even after all the layers fall on top of it."

He made a face as he took off layer after layer, a pained expression on his face; she was helping him along, fingers nimble on dark blue and black fabric "now, put this on first; then this—see how it ties around?" Her eyes stayed focused on his back or chest, depending which side she was on, voice firm. "Now second and third layers are interchangeable, but I am quite fond of this blue, so let's make that dominant." She inspected him. "There! Once you tie the second obi, we're done." The first, the big one, was white; this one was black. "Ah, here's the haori" she gave him the last, most colourful layer "and we're done."

"And if I don't want to wear it?"

She felt her eye twitch. "You're wearing it."

"But I don't—,"

"If I'm dressed like _**this**_ , you're wearing the damn haori." She was absolute.

"Oh, so you admit you're overdressed?"

"I am not; but if we don't both look formal then I ** **will**** be regarded as such. You're wearing it." He was still not convinced. "Do you feel suicidal?" He nodded no. "Then you're wearing it."

He actually laughed at her threat, just before giving into her orders. For the past five minutes she'd been manhandling him, too in her effort to dress him properly, fingers weaving in and out, going around as she pleased; saying yes felt natural. It didn't feel too bad, being fondled by a pretty woman in an effort to get him into his clothes, after all.

She took a step back, admiring her handiwork. "Not bad at all! These colours suit you very nicely, make you look like a lord, too."

"As if I care."

Her smirk came easy. "Oh, I don't know. Last time I checked, only daimyo used other people to dress them. And they called them _servants_." She shook her head. "And to think I am the rich one in this unit..."

"Pissed, priestess?"

"Not at all; how could I ever be mad at you admitting you need my help?"

"Leave," he half-barked, half-laughed "I'm coming once I find my swords."

Ah, right.

She complied, leaving the impressive haori on the table, a mix of black, blue and white in swirling patterns that formed dragons at the edges and exited the tent. She was surprised to find a crowd had gathered in front of it and, although seeing her, they did not flinch or pay her much attention. Ah. They had gathered here for their captain! Suddenly, an idea came to her and a wicked smile formed. She stood by the red fabric that served as the door, on the right; then she raised her hands towards it, as if displaying something. After she was sure she had everyone's attention, she cleared her throat.

"Gentlemen, I present to you your new lord: Saitou Hajime-dono."

She timed it perfectly; the moment she finished speaking his name, he emerged. There was a split second of absolute silence as the man took pause at the large number of people, and the people took in the captain's appearance.

Then all men broke out in roaring laughter!

Coupled with Tokio's "presentation", it really was hilarious. Even Saitou couldn't deny it, despite being _so_ fed up with this entire ordeal, he was this close to snapping; still, he endured, taking a deep breath. Then his eyes slid to Tokio, as lethal as his blade, and his head followed, but slower, in a scary way.

"If you're done ridiculing me, let's go."

"Aww," Okita cooed "but you look so handsome, Saitou-san."

"Traitors are not allowed," he snubbed his short friend as Okita laughed in his face. "We're good to go; there's a carriage waiting for us at the gates—the man sent it to us, arrived an hour ago."

She rolled her eyes appropriately, him agreeing. "At least we won't be inconvenienced any more than we have to."

He had to agree with that, too. "Where's your holy symbol?"

He had instinctively looked at her waist, where the pouch with the ingredients usually was, to find it there, only swapped out for something far more expensive and stylish. The driver opened the door for them at the same time, but his helping hand was thoroughly ignored as Saitou simply pushed her inside the carriage, firm hand on her back. In fact, he wasn't thoroughly ignored—he received a passing but mighty glare from the Saitou, who found it quite reprehensible, a driver offering his hand to the lady.

"It's right here," she pointed at the elegant, gold chain that hang low, just as she settled in her seat; it ended in an intricate and far more aesthetically pleasing image of her usual holy symbol "I never go anywhere without it."

The carriage began to move. "And the ring?"

"Oh this? It's a fail-safe; it's quite expensive so I can smash it to procure diamond dust, in case the amount I have proves insufficient."

Wow, she was far more prepared than he'd think, despite not bringing even one weapon and leaving all of her armour behind. But he had to tease her. "Expensive rings, gold necklaces...how lavish of you."

She shook her head. "I knew you'd be like this."

"Rich people," he breathed but she caught it.

"You used to be rich, too from what I heard."

He stiffened, just a little. "Not that rich; and I never liked that lifestyle."

She tried to sound as non-confrontational as possible when she hummed; and then she followed it up with a question that left him staring at her hard, trying to decide what to do or say. "Is that why they disowned you?"

"No," he finally made up his mind "it was more of a necessity."

He could tell she was curious, she kept looking at him every half a second; he could also tell she was trying to be cordial and not pry any further. Sighing defeated, he realised he was going to be sharing this whether he liked it or not. "You __can__ ask, you know," he allowed her.

"Why did they disown you?"

He heaved a long-suffering sigh, very different than the one before; he averted his eyes. "I was the one responsible for my wife's death; my Jade Regent-friendly wife, two years before the Empress was crowned."

"I see...I am sorry for your losses."

She bowed in that graceful way and he had to click his tongue. "Don't be. Although I did love my wife, her allegiance lay somewhere mine couldn't follow and that was why she was ultimately killed; as far as my position is concerned, _please."_ A snort. "I was the third child, second son. I didn't lose much, in terms of future prospects—only the cushy life I never even wanted. Besides, it was all scripted; they too were anti-Regent and my disowning was only a smoke-screen, to cover my enrollment to the Shinsengumi." He chuckled. "We're on good terms, actually.""

"I see." A beat of silence. "How was your wife killed?"

"Hijikata killed her." Her shock was too obvious. "I'd found out she had made a contract with an oni, whatever contract an oni can uphold anyway, and she was persistently trying to get me to do the same. I told her to stop, she didn't listen. Eventually, when I decided to join him and his men, she attacked...and Hijikata stopped her."

"Sounds terrible."

"Looked worse."

Her face was the perfect expression of empathy. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes, but it was inevitable; I loved her and she loved me, too but we were both very focused on our individual ethics. And when those don't match, it's very difficult."

"I am so sorry."

"Don't be, really." She tried, but couldn't find something to say. "Let's change the subject." But what to say? He wasn't one to start conversations...think; what has she ever talked about? Oh right. "You said you wanted to have your own family registry once; what other plans do you have for the future?"

Now it was her who averted her eyes. "...I told you I have enough money to build my own city yesterday, but...truth is, that _**is**_ my goal: build a city of my own where everyone is allowed, as long as they stick to the rules I'll have set, while no sick or injured would go unattended." She looked outside idly. "I have the funds to make it a reality; now I only need the land."

"That's why you took this assignment," he finally put it together. He stopped to look at her. "I respect that."

"It was _one_ of the reasons," she pointed out.

"No need to get defensive, princess."

"I am ****not**** a princess; that title remains empty to this day."

"Pffffff, this Empress won't be giving us any heirs from the looks of it; the Empire will fall into a state of chaos and anarchy."

"Or, _maybe,_ things will happen as the people will them for once. Maybe Shizuru, in her infinite wisdom, will give her blessings to a new order of things, where the people govern themselves...! Or at least choose their rulers, or even have the chance to become rulers themselves."

She was calm, like commenting on the weather, as if she hadn't just proposed one of the most revolutionary concepts in the entire continent of Tian Xia,. She turned to look at him, sensing his eyes on her once more; she found him staring quite incredulously. "Yes?"

"You...speak of forbidden things with a very straight face. Also, please don't speak of these things in front of Shizuru followers."

"Shizuru followers such as yourself?"

"Maybe, but never say any of that in front of Hijikata. Maybe he already knows, but if he doesn't, and he hears you...I don't know how he'd react."

She waved him away. "I won't but if Shizuru wanted me to stop, she would have shown me a sign a long time ago."

"That's not how these things go."

She gave him a look. "Of course it is."

"Right, I forget; you're a cleric. You have a different way to communicate with the divine. "

"Well, no; yes, but no; anyway, never mind."

After that, they fell into silence that lasted quite a while. She was looking out the window, trying to ignore the heated looks, sometimes calculating and others troubled, Saitou was sending her way. Other than that, he too would look out the window, but sitting opposite her he couldn't help but sneak glances her way. The revelations, the attitude, the clothes...he _couldn't_ stop looking at her really. But for none of the reasons he would have ever imagined, not one of those glances was it tainted with dislike or annoyance.

"Tokio," he said after a long time "what type of God is Qi Zhong?"

The way she looked at him made him feel bad about himself; she was so disbelieving but exited at the same time...when she was certain she heard right, she became a ball of energy, bouncing all over the place without even moving from her seat! It appeared she was expecting someone, anyone to make that question. And now he did and her chest rose with every breath and it was quite cute to watch it all go down.

He was treated to a thorough explanation of Qi Zhong's agenda, beliefs and doctorines: God of magic, knowledge, good and healing; the God who raised another god from the dead, Tsukuyomi, Shizuru's lover, just so that the two gods could meet again, even once every four or five years during the eclipse. He was a god who thought one ought to protect those around them, especially those who were weak, above all others and his followers adhered to that as a rule. There was no one in suffering that they did not have a moral obligation to help, unless it somehow impeded with a greater good directly.

He was not surprised she was a devoted follower of the certain god, an agent of the god actually, if he was allowing her to use his divine powers in his name. "You know," he started then "I must admit, I misjudged you." She gave him a keen look. "You're nothing like I expected."

A soft chuckle later, she said "that's because you were biased for I am a woman; and a rich one at that."

"True."

"But I appreciate you telling me; it takes a lot to admit to that."

He grunted in an odd way, making her giggle; he clicked his tongue. "Too girly today, aren't you?"

"Can't help it, not in this attire."

"Idiot."

"You should act formal yourself, now that we're almost there." He waved her away and, shrugging, she went back to her window-watching.

They had introduced themselves to the self appointed king of the very large village, or small city, and his son the moment they set foot in town, with them first giving them a small detour, but Tokio was proud to say she managed to avoid both for most of the night. Instead, she alternated between participating and spectating the various games and competitions. That is, until dinner-time came. Thankfully, it wasn't held behind closed walls, but in the city square, next to the fountain. The city's most important personalities were invited, making it a table seating approximately one hundred people. And, of course, food stalls and makeshift barbecues were set up all around them, in an effort to make the rest of the townsfolk feel included.

But the beauty of the festival was unlike any other; it bore an unfamiliar feeling compared to theirs, in the capital or the large cities, being a northern region. It had many familiar elements and wasn't too exotic, but at the same time everything was different; the booths were plenty and their food delicious. The games were all new and they enjoyed partaking in many of them, even if they deliberately lost, to give money back to the community. But what was truly mesmerising was the fairy lights; so long you stood a good distance from the stalls, they were almost otherworldly.

"We hold accomplished women to a very high esteem around these parts, Tokio-san" the father informed her, nodding imperceptibly towards his son "enough to make them queens."

"With all due respect," Saitou started after just a glance at Tokio's polite nod, dislike to whatever was going to follow blatant, but too well mannered to speak out "she has much better prospects by her birthright alone; besides, if she ever chose to be used for political games, she'd pick a bigger power than you."

If Tokio was having a drink, she would have spat it out; the two men gave him a similar look, as if not quite believing he was sane and said all those things. She motioned for him to stop, but he went on, despite clearly seeing her. "Though I doubt a woman of her status and caliber would allow to be used; her skill set alone makes it a shame for her to be tied down by big or small town politics. Her healing capabilities should be accessible to everyone."

"She's still human," the son protested "she needs a companion."

"That's for her to decide, but sure; still, she doesn't need someone as grand as a king. If anything someone like that would hinder her path in life."

"And you presume to know the path of life she has chosen?"

"I do not; I imply we have talked about it and she seems to favour the adventurer's lifestyle."

They all turned to her. "Yes," she admitted with a challenging smile "at least for now; sharing my gifts with the world before I find, or even make, some place to settle seems ideal."

"You have self-centred plans, Tokio-san," the son commented awkward.

She blinked. "Are you saying my plans for my future are too focused on _me_? Or do you imply my wish to help others at the best of my ability is selfish?"

"No...of course not. I said something stupid, forgive me."

"I accept your apology."

She inclined her head in that gracious way she always moved and the back of her neck was exposed; Saitou blinked. What was that? He could swear he saw a tattoo peeking out of her skin. Was it there before? No, he'd have seen it when she first wore a kimono, he wouldn't miss such a fancy thing: a dragon comprised of flames and wood, black, but...changing colour? What was that? Wait, he was staring too long; he had to look away. Any moment now, come on; any moment...but she caught him staring now, so what's the use? He scolded himself but that damn thing was entrancing, he felt compelled to look at it. Right; that's the excuse he'd use later that night.

No matter, the conversation effectively ended after that which was a success as far as Tokio was concerned, who ate like she was at home. The man would glare both at his son for the poor handling of the situation, as well as Saitou for taking it that far. But after the actual food was consumed, they had no reason to linger any longer and the carriage that brought them, took them home.

"Tokio, do you have any tattoos?"

Her eyes snapped to his knowingly. There was an indistinguishable feeling floating around her face and he couldn't tell if he just said something very right or very wrong. It was all decided when she opened her mouth again. "You saw." But then she went ahead and asked the most ridiculous thing she could have. "What did you see?"

"What can I see other than what it was?"

"Just answer me."

"It was a dragon made of fire and vines with thorns; it was as big as two of..."

The moment he spoke of it, the exact image popped up in her face! No, to be precise, the dragon appeared slithering our from her neck, ascending to her face; it settled in profile and her eye became the eye of the dragon. He stared. "How did this happen?"

"What happened?"

"The tattoo just appeared on your face."

"Oh, it did?" She seemed happy and he was completely lost. "That's great."

"Tokio, what is that?"

"I've had that for a while now, maybe two years."

"I'd have seen it before."

She shook her head. "It does not rely on sight; it relies on...perception. And one's perception of me, mostly."

"Pardon?"

"The dragon travels wherever it wants; it usually prefers my shoulders."

"Is it a curse?" The way she laughed told him no. "Is it a blessing?"

"Of some sort; but not for me, for the ones who see it. The problem is, it's capricious. It won't reveal itself to many. You're the first in the entire unit."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "My body is its home; you did something truly nice about me, so it appreciated it, I guess."

"Is it a parasite?"

She sturuggled with that question. "It's something divine but I can't tell you its exact origins. It just appeared one day." He was very distraught at her lack of curiosity about this thing living inside her. "It's not sentient but at the same time it is; don't worry, if it was anything harmful, I'd have known. Like I said, it has only helped people."

"How? By making them stare at you?"

She giggled; "no, but that's the way it makes itself known. Once you look at it for a long time, next time you'll be able to benefit from it—how, you'll know when the time comes."

"Wh...why does this even exist?"

"I don't know; I didn't ask."

"So what does this mean?"

"I guess it means you accepted me as your comrade and it thanks you."

He was about to say something back, but then he realised...he didn't want to. The dragon thing was right. He stayed there silent, sitting in his seat. So many things he had no idea how to respond to kept happening around him; he was confused. And he was tired. He didn't want to fight anymore, so let this be the beginning of a new era! One he'd be accepting and kind...at least, for his standards.

.

.

"Knock knock. Is Tokio-chan decent?"

"Come in," the woman responded through laughs; he knew that was Okita's voice at her tent's door, in the middle of the night. Why he hadn't gone to sleep already, she had no idea. "What is it?"

"Aw, you look cute in casual clothes, too."

"This is my nightgown," she managed between chuckles.

"Oooh, good to know." She smacked him. "Anyway, you must be wondering what in Shizuru's name I am doing here...well, the reason is the exact opposite from this morning. Saitou-san needs help taking his clothes off! Just like a giant baby."

"Oh, I for—ha ha ha, no, he's not a giant baby. I did something to the," she showed the back "so he can't," she waved Okita away "I'm going, I'm going."

"I'm coming in," she announced mere moments later as she walked in Saitou's tent.

"Why are you here? I asked __Okita__ to—..." He shook his head. "What are you wearing?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's late; no one saw me in my oh so shocking sleepwear."

"Okita did." Obviously; why did he say that? He had no idea why—it just felt like it needed to be said; for some reason, it bothered him.

"Yeah, so do you, now; this isn't the dramatic situation you make it out to be." She came closer, turning him around just as he was about to complain some more, despite knowing she was completely right and had no reason to keep this up. "You can't take this off because I put a safety pin there, otherwise it would sag."

"Ugh, I hate it when they sag."

"I figured; this is how I always do it for dad...and brother, when he was still alive." A small smile he missed flashed and then she patted him twice on the back to let him know he was ready. "You can undress now; goodnight commander."

" _ _Vice__ commander," he corrected her again and she chuckled. "Acting, too."

"You know what they say: act the part long enough..."

"And what part are __you__ acting, exactly?"

Just like that, the mood changed; it wasn't hostile, as she would have expected, but it wasn't normal, either. It savoured of something heated. It reminded her of that night so many moons ago that he had the decency to escort her to her room. But he wasn't grabbing her now, nor was he aggressive; he was just...intense. The way he was looking at her felt like he was actually grabbing her, it was very intrusive. No, it was something diffirent; something she couldn't distinguish yet. Or, she didn't want to; no matter, she decided to end this stalemate and break the off staring contest, even if it meant losing because it did something weird to her temperature.

Sighing, she headed to the exit. "You are always second guessing me, Hajime..."

"There were too many revelations these past three days, I don't know what to think anymore."

"You should have made up your mind by now; oh, and a warning:" just as she pushed the door to the side, she turned to look at him "if you complain about my kimono again, I'll start wearing my old adventuring garb, I swear to Qi Zhong. See how you like it then." He looked like he had no idea what she was threatening. It made her smile. "Consider yourself warned."

.

.

"Hijikata-sama." All the captains bowed deeply to the man who emerged from the carriage. But then their eyes widened as a second figure walked out. "Kondou-sama!" Their bow became a bent knee – with the exception of Tokio – and they waited until both men were out of the carriage to rise again.

"It's a blessing you both returned, welcome back," Tokio saluted them, leading everyone to the encampment.

It had been too long since Kondou had set foot there, it was quite different: his tent had become a full-fledged operations centre while other places were expanded and refined; the little circle of captains remained, but it spread out while at the same time growing closer with the men's tents. And of course, Tokio's tent was moved further away from everyone, becoming even bigger if possible.

"We have loads to tell you!" Okita started exuberant once they were safely out of earshot, but he was stopped by a frowning Hijikata.

"They will have to wait until we are done informing you of some changes." The two men looked at one another and once Kondou nodded, Hijikata sighed, but continued. "We have new orders."

 _Oh no_ , the collective looks of the men could be translated as. "We are no longer meant to fight the oni of the west...but eliminate the growing threat of the north, going by the name Shishio Makoto."

For a single, solitary moment there was silence.

"What?"

And then it started.

But to everyone's surprise, it was Tokio who spoke. "Why would our orders need to change to take care of him? He is not that big of a deal that we need to only concern ourselves with him! Hell, we can deal with him on our way there, just as we had originally—!"

"This comes from her Majesty herself," Kondou cut her off; Tokio's expression of furious disbelief was comical. "There is no changing it."

"She was the one who wanted us to fight the oni!"

"Yes, and now it's her again that has decided this; only she can overrule her own decision, you know that," Hijikata scolded her but she could tell he was bitter about this, too.

So why wasn't anyone reacting? He might have been bitter but said nothing! And the men—she turned around in search of support but all she saw was crestfallen, defeated men. She fumed! "This is unacceptable," she stated then, trying to speak up for everyone. "What did she promise this once? Unclaimed pieces of land that belonged to Jade Regent's rich supporters?"

"Yes," came Kondou's awkward admission "how did you know?"

She actually clicked her tongue at that and everyone looked on scandalised as she so openly criticised her highness as well as her decisions. "What else would she promise? This is ridiculous! We are supposed to go help those poor people in Chu Ye, not take a trip around the countryside; I won't stand for this."

The titular commander was in shock. "Tokio-san, what are you-?"

"I do not accept this turn of events! This is immoral, not just to the people of Chu Ye but to you, too. You cannot possibly-!"

"Her majesty has her reasons," Hijikata intervened, a little taken aback at the woman's tongue.

"Yes, indeed; she worries too much for the public opinion, thinking it can be swayed against her easily—but she tends to forget she has the Goddess's blessings! The court can't kill her or make her disappear; she's not her father nor is she weak. She must be more decisive than this if she is to rule for a long time. She can't be disappointed in us, for we only have three months to show for our efforts—three months fraught with achievements and people's cheers! We have been successful so far and—,"

"—and it isn't our place to have such strong opinions for her Majesty's decisions," Saitou reminded her, as less confrontational as possible "we only need to carry out her orders. We are soldiers. "

" _ _You__ are; and how can you live like this!?"

"That is our lot in life," Okita casually agreed "and the fact we have such high prospects waiting for us, it's a kindness on her part."

"This is ridiculous," she repeated, but her anger had mellowed out in volume...which only meant it started building up as an emotion. Saitou knew that expression, she was about to say something very stupid. "I won't stand for this, not so easily." She turned to them all. "Excuse me gentlemen, I need to leave for a little while; please all of you wait for me here."

They watched dumbfounded as she turned around and walked out the tent in an instant. After gaping for about an entire minute at her antics, Saitou recovered first; he shook his head. "I'll go...reason with her." He did not wait for the okay and just followed after her.

He was the best choice really; he was the only one who knew why she was that upset—her dream would not be realised as well as it could have; Tokio was annoyed by her highness and the fact they were friends only made it easier for her to be angry. But to act like that in front of so many people, how uncouth. He never quickened his pace though, trying to appear casual – and not give anyone the impression he was running after her, for whatever reason – so it took him longer than her to reach the tent. When he did, and was about to make himself known, he heard her voice.

Wow, did she sense him? Just as he was about to announce himself all the same though, he finally strung what she said together...and she wasn't talking to him. Then to whom?

"Why would you change your mind for no reason!? You know we have invested in this!"

Saitou remained staring at her door; was she...speaking to the Empress? "Come on, Ameiko," came his answer in the form of her righteous indignation "there's no need to be coy!"

Curiosity won out in the end.

Disregarding the splendour he found inside as his head emerged behind the door, trying not to pay it any attention for now, he turned to the place where the big black blob of armour was: hunched over the table, at the right, shouting at something stationary. He walked inside, but she still did not hear him. She kept glaring and talking to the...mirror, it was a mirror, flat on the wooden surface, with drive and attitude. "We have had our orders and they were satisfactory; you know yourself we could have eliminated Shishio as a side quest, too; no need to bump him up to main goal status, for no other reason than pleasing the old men of the council."

"People started getting antsy over your victories; not to mention the killing of that Jabberwock brought many emotions to the surface. Those who are against you started panicking and those in your favour nearly reverie you now."

"So address them; you are the Empress, you can do whatever you want. I think you forget I helped you eliminate all the actively Jade Regent-friendly adversaries; those who remain are only those who hope to stir up trouble and them we have under control."

Saitou was approaching without a shred of stealth, but neither woman noticed him; he saw the Empress's face in the mirror, looking up at the cleric wearily. "If my word is so absolute then why do you so vehemently try to refute it?"

"The men were promised a different path; so was I. What I set out to do is very different from cleaning up after people's messes. Shishio, you know as well as I, is a remnant of the Regent. I can take care of it, but that's not my end game."

"It is now."

"But-!"

"You defeated a mythical creature; defeat a tangible threat, too and you'll be loved by the public enough to make the unit a part of the army."

"So, you think closing a minor case will have the same impact as liberating a country?"

"Results matter; and no matter what, defeating an enemy in our own country will be much more appreciated than other people's problems."

Tokio pinched the bridge of her nose hard. "We are going in circles. This is not why I contacted."

"Right." An imperceptible smile appeared on her highness lips. "Your sole purpose was to change my mind."

Tokio smirked back. "You do seem to change it so easily, after all..."

"Tokio, I beg of you; I haven't had a drink in days, too so my patience is wearing thin. Do not challenge me on this, just this once."

Heh; even the Empress herself was at a loss with this woman's stubbornness. He was very glad he wasn't the only one. But Saitou didn't miss the way Tokio's eyes became smaller at that, nor the obvious curiosity in her eyes.

"Tokio, I want you to help these men defeat Shishio; I am not confident they will make it on their own. But, if you are so averse to the idea of leaving the Chu Ye objective behind...then you have my consent: break off the unit and pursue the original goal on your own."

Saitou stared, speechless; Tokio looked on shocked.

"But make no mistake, they will not follow. Their new mission is Shishio Makoto; their reward will still be land and a home of their own, as well as the right to bear a noble name, and yours, I will make sure it is the same. Simply, the way you go about it will change." A pause. "So, what will it be?"

For one long moment, Saitou could feel the pit of his stomach drop and disappear to the void of his anxiety. He could not see her expression, he couldn't be sure of what she was going to say or do next; he only knew that the Empress was offering her exactly what she wanted and she'd have to be a damn fool not to accept. It was what she always wanted, offered with open arms. There was no way she would not take the offer. No way she'd stay with them, to babysit their useless asses.

His heart slowed down a bit, just as he had felt like he ran a marathon. Disappointment mingled with something bitter, came to his lips. He never expected that to be the case but he was actually...sad she'd be leaving. It affected him. Although he was the number one naysayer. He tried not to linger too much on these thoughts and made to leave. That's when he heard her sigh defeated and he stopped dead in his tracks; whipping his head back to take a proper look at her, he discerned defeat at the shake of her head, the staring match with her Majesty thusly coming to an end.

"You know I can't just leave them; they'd be dead in a week." The Empress laughed but Saitou felt his mouth going dry. "Stupid men, always rushing into danger...besides, now I'm attached. If I found out one of them died because of my absence, I couldn't live with myself." She clicked her tongue. "You're playing dirty your highness; wipe that smirk off your face."

"I got what I wanted so why should I?"

"Because you're hiding something." Saitou, after the initial shock, could see how the Empress tried to play it cool, but what Tokio said affected her. Interesting.

"If I am, I have my reasons."

"...so I shouldn't pry?"

"I will tell you anyway, so let it be a mystery a while longer."

"Fair enough. Goodbye your highness."

"Bye bye, cute Tokio-chan."

And just like that, the mirror went back to showing Tokio's reflection. "You know I hate it when you call me that!" the cleric bellowed, despite her highness not being there to hear it anymore and let out an impressive howl. "Why do I always have to do what other people want?" she started murmuring to herself, a little disappointed. "I can never establish myself, how pathetic; I'm such a pushover. "

He tried not to smile. "You are definitely not a pushover."

She jumped so high, he had to laugh; she pouted. "Why are you here? And how long have you-?"

"Long enough to watch you talk to her highness through that handy mirror."

Instead of losing her colour as he had expected, she sighed. "Great; one more thing you have to keep quiet now. I don't do anything shady with it, but I feel if anyone knew, they'd treat me differently."

"And then you wonder why won't anyone do as you like...you won't use your bargaining chips."

"Hush you; you still haven't answered why you're here."

"Oh, I came to reason with you, but no need now; the Empress did it for me." She pursed her lips annoyed. "Let's go tell Hijikata you'll be posing no more problems, before he snaps and storms your tent."

"I'm sorry I lost my temper, but this came a little left field...but, you know, this doesn't have to be the end."

They started walking to the exit then the command centre. "What do you mean?"

"Once the festivities of defeating Shishio die down, we can always return to our original goal."

"What if the Empress has other plans for us?"

She shrugged. "If this mission's stipulations have changed and it's considered finished with Shishio's downfall, then it will be much shorter than anticipated; and you will be rid of my persistent presence earlier than expected."

"What do you mean?"

She gave him a funny look. "Hajime, I am with you for the duration of this particular assignment; I am not a real member of the unit." He stopped walking, quite taken aback; her expression became curious. "Once our common assignment is finished, I will go my own way; that was the deal."

"You'll just leave?"

"Well, if her highness decides to allow you to go to Chu Ye, I shall escort you, seeing that is also my goal, but if not, then yes, I'll have to." A nervous laugh escaped her. "It was you who protested to my appointment on the first place, why are you looking so upset all of the sudden? That was always how it was supposed to go."

"Yes, but...you've proved the most useful member of the team. And if you leave, we won't have a cleric again and we've gotten used to you."

"Huh; you aren't wrong." She considered. "I am sure I will be able to convince her highness to allow you two more healers on a regular basis, especially if she plans to make you a special unit of her army."

"They won't be as good as you."

"Few are as good as I am and I am __not__ flaunting, I'm just trying to warn you; but, there are many more weeks to come until that happens, we'll see who we'll be able to recruit—,"

"I don't want you to leave."

He blurted it out before he could stop himself.

Damn that tattoo that suddenly appeared on her face, making him stare longer than necessary! And did it compel him to say stupid things, why was his mouth spewing such nonsense? The way her eyes became a little bigger than usual at the admission made him feel like a damn fool, too __shit; stop looking at me like that__. He had to say something...

"You're one of us, now; we shared food and drink. No one else is acceptable."

"That's...not how..it goes, Hajime..."

She wanted to stand by what she said, she really did; but the way he was peering at her face, the unguarded tone of his voice just a second ago and his disarming honesty made her mumble, nearly as convincing as she wanted to appear.

And then he said the last thing she expected to hear. "I don't care."

She stared.

"I mean it. Your main concern is the land, right? That's why you were so upset. Well, should we defeat Shishio all of his land falls in our hands; if you take __half__ of whatever Shishio has under his control as we speak, you can easily have an entire fiefdom of your own. So, take it; take the biggest share, I don't care; take mine, too—all I want is a home and a name of my own. But this way, even if the Empress doesn't send us to Chu Ye, you have no reason to leave. And if she does, then, we do our good deed and come back all the same." She tried to speak many times but each and every one, she would close her mouth, even more shocked than the previous. "You are one of us now; you can't leave."

"And what will my rank be if I stay?"

"Whatever the hell it is now."

She snorted. "No one listens to me now."

"Are you—? Everyone listens to you." She gave him a look, but he continued flabbergasted.. " _ _I__ listen to you and I am by far the most difficult one. Or do you think Hijikata wouldn't take your council seriously if he was fully aware of your skills as well as your relationship with her highness?"

"You don't listen to me," she countered.

"I don't __always__ listen to you."

"Yes, but—"

"If this is about your father being close enough to make your life miserable, think again; you have enough to build and sustain your city for five years. It's the logistics that's always the most difficult part but you have it all down, it's clear you want it. Your father's protests are inconsequential, especially if you, too take your own name." A pause. "There's no downside to this, Tokio; none at all." He compelled her to look at him. "So, stay here, with us."

She regarded him for a very long, moment; confused, defensive, maybe a little breathless, too. She felt her heart beat quicken yet slow down at the same time. "Why...do you care?"

His shoulders twitched, almost shrugging, but he didn't want to complete the motion, so he caught himself; he didn't want this to be dismissed. He did care about how this would play out, even if he didn't **want** to.

"I just do." He had no idea what he wanted to convey, other than it was consuming; somehow, she seemed to understand it and decided to step back. "Tokio...stay."

He said it one final time before moving again; he passed by her and headed for the tent, causing her to hurry along. But both walked all the way there silent; none would say or show anything on their faces, feeling a little numb. They'd sneak glances at one another regularly but say nothing. What else could he say? What could she say in return? This needed to be thought out.

"Oh no," Hijikata almost cried out when they returned "you fought again."

Like snapping out of something, she realised she must have looked a new brand of pathetic; but she didn't mind, she was thinking hard. A soft smile later, she waved his worries away. "Not at all; I was just mulling over what Hajime told me...I am sorry, Hijikata-sama, Kondou-sama; I have overreacted. If you're willing to pretend this never happened, I am more than willing to help you once again."

"That is a relief," Kondou admitted, smile finally returning "thank you Tokio-san."

 _Good job_ , Okita mouthed to Saitou who just nodded curtly; Hijikata still caught it though and appeared troubled. He had left Saitou and Tokio in his stead and Okita as a mediator; but now it was Saitou who acted like the one to calm her spirits down. What happened while he was away? This had everything to do with the Jabberwock, he could bet his head on it.

"Is there anything else we should be informed of right now?" Tokio asked, her desire to leave a little too obvious.

"No; we'll stay here for one more day anyway. Let us rest and assess the situation at the encampment and we'll form a battle plan tomorrow." It was Hijikata who answered her, knowing Kondou hadn't put much thought into it yet. Still, this gave her a chance to catch her breath, so she was appreciative, despite her opinion that they needed to move soon. And then the most desirable words were heard and she was out the door in a split second: "You are dismissed."

.

.

"What's wrong Tokio-chan? Did you not like the plan we came up with?"

"Not at all; I think it's very wise to scout first and stir even more trouble before facing him. Information are always important and welcome. As is, making a name for ourselves."

Harada chuckled. "Then why do you sit there with such a stern frown on your face?" It was quite uncommon of her, she was always such a ray of sunshine. Now, she resembled, dare they say it, Saitou Hajime of all people.

"No reason; I'm just being silly." The smile returned effortlessly and everyone sighed a breath of relief. "Overthinking, too I suppose."

"Overthinking what?"

Saitou's deep voice snapped every person at attention – mostly Toudou who was standing a little too close to Tokio – as no one expected him back so soon; they supposed Hijikata's training would take much longer than a measly hour, but it didn't; and Saitou was too observant and caught the way Tokio averted her eyes from him, even if only for a moment before looking back to pretend it was all smooth sailing. Did no one else notice she was really forcing herself, why was everyone harping over her? Still, she waved them away, as if it was nothing and they bought it.

But it wasn't.

It was affecting her deeply, in fact. Why had that small conversation stuck with her so much? Why did it feel so important? Why did she fear broaching the subject with the rest? Why did it feel so...overwhelming it was Saitou who asked her to stay with them? He wasn't wrong in saying he accurately determined she was useful and needed—and yet, him so unabashedly asking her to stay had such a profound effect on her. She couldn't, wouldn't stop thinking about it. Why couldn't she just stop thinking about it?

Her mind was made up, damn it! She'd leave once the assignment was over, only join them if they ventured to Chu Ye; she would never admit it to anyone, at least she wasn't planning to, but it was _her_ influence that convinced Ameiko to make this expedition a reality—her plan was to settle there, establish a new capital and slowly make the entire country a good aligned one and it was perfect. Just because Ameiko cancelled didn't mean anything—she could still do it on her own. It'd just have to take longer, without the very convenient bunch of samurai to help.

So why was it that one simple request from Saitou easily threw her head into such disarray? Why, for the life of her, was she actually considering this? They would never disobey Ameiko; and Ameiko would hardly part with such good troops and leave them at her disposal. Thus, it was impossible for them to stay together.

Then why was she considering it!?

She couldn't wrap her head around it, she really couldn't. She had so many plans for that country; she didn't fashion herself an Empress, but she did like the sound of Reformist; help the people see the error of their ways, defeat the evil creatures and guide them to a brighter future. That's what she literally lived for—help defenceless people and show them the better path. Then why was she faltering? Why did it feel like she was inclined to listen to him?

"Ah, never mind; I need to go anyway."

She was running away, perfect; he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Saitou decided not to pressure her; if she was thinking about it this hard, it meant she was considering it, steps in the right direction already. So, he decided to change the subject. "Is this one of your healing expeditions?"

"Yes!" The way she brightened up the moment she spoke, made her previous smile look too fake, even the rest noticed finally. "Since we'll be staying here for another week doing the odd jobs Hijikata wants us to, I have no reason to stop visiting; the rebuilding is going perfectly—Daichi has been helping a lot. Well, many men have, but he's the one leading them."

Saitou snorted with laughter; what a guy, Daichi was. First he duels with Tokio, proceeds to lose to her miserably and then nearly worshipping her; now, he does exactly what she wants without her even asking. If anyone who didn't know him noticed, he'd think he was in love but that's just his way of showing respect. What a guy, really.

"And he's been keeping you updated?"

"Ah, no; I visit regularly. I split my time between the town being rebuild and the village we protected. So! I'm going; today is the village, in fact, and I have a lot of checking up to do. If anyone is interested in going there, too, you're welcome."

"Actually," Okita started, a smile already on his lips "other than Saitou-san, who must finish his training with Hijikata, no one else is occupied. We can all come."

Saitou smirked. "Are you so annoyed Hijikata preferred me to you that you are _actively_ trying to leave me behind?"

"I might..."

"Well, my training for the day is over; and I have nothing else to do, too. Though I don't think going to a pub so early is any good," he strictly reminded everyone, despite the humour in his voice "we could always go and do one or two things around the village—it's too big of a village anyway, too many people; too much drama."

"You can say that again," Harada agreed, with an odd look on his face, giving him the impression he either must have seen or been caught up to something.

"Exactly. There are many things we can do before getting drink, so let's."

"Yessir~!" Okita happily saluted and they all headed to the horses together.

.

.

Three days later, their routine had been all but ingrained into all of them: the lower ranking men would do odd jobs here and there, the five of them would take on more dangerous missions, sometimes Tokio would join them if they were too much and Takeda, classic Takeda, now that Kondou was back, he'd persistently hang around and suck up to him infuriatingly. Tokio had noticed this and expressed her disagreement; there were some very pointed looks between these two as well and no one knew what was that about, other than her disapproval.

No matter what though, once their official duties were finished, not too late in the day, they would go either to the town or the village, help around and then visit the closest to their location bar and have a couple of rounds to drink and eat, free of charge – seeing all of their help was also free of charge – . Sometimes Tokio would join them; others, she'd have been too busy and meet up with them directly at the stables when they were supposed to leave. All in all, they had a schedule and it consisted entirely of the six of them. It was a comfort, in their ever-changing lives.

It was also detrimental to Saitou's mental health.

For some inexplicable reason, ever since they had that conversation – in which he pathetically asked her to stay with them, but he would never repeat that, even if it killed him – Tokio consumed him. She was everywhere: in his company, in his line of sight, in his thoughts...the idea she was going to leave soon – "soon" – was overwhelming. He couldn't help it but go back to that, mind looping endlessly. When he broached the subject with Hijikata one day, while training, he was fully aware of the fact, he'd said. Although the vice commander's stance had changed drastically from "good riddance" to "she'd be a great plus" he had made no mention of it to Tokio herself. When Saitou had revealed he talked to her about it and asked her to extend the time of her stay, the man congratulated him for being so insightful and praised him for his initiative but...how could he ever admit it was an impulse, an instinct, really; he just didn't want her to leave.

And he reacted.

The fact no one wanted her to go but it was just Hijikata and Saitou who were aware of her imminent departure drove him mad, too. The vice-commander had forbidden him from talking about it to the others because, if Tokio didn't change her mind and left all the same, the blow to morale would be much greater...so, to cut losses, everyone was kept in the dark. All but him that is, and his own morale plummeted to the ground, the more he thought about it.

Now, the fact he had no idea why his first instinct to her leaving was "please stay" also drove him absolutely crazy. It started showing in his face, worry lines forming a little too soon, as well as his every day life: missing blows he'd otherwise succeed at – if the battle was inconsequential enough to be distracted during it – or glance her way a little too much; he'd been having much less sleep lately, too another reason his performance was slipping. He'd be snappy for no reason, too – but not to her, given he had taken to avoiding her again; only this once it was a polite and out of your way avoidance – and the men would tease...

The men would tease a little too much. Whenever she wasn't around, they'd call him moody, or star-struck; he was still in relative awe of the woman for her accomplishments but at the same time jealous and his ego was too confused on how to react so this was the result.

And then there was Okita.

Shizuru help him, Okita had a way of getting under his skin instantly. Only when they were alone and only after a couple of drinks, Okita would look at him with a co-conspirator's grin, slyness in his eyes. He'd tease and make all sorts of comments in the line of Saitou needing to get laid or have a woman pay attention to him that wasn't their cleric. And that irked him. But nothing shook him so much as his one and only comment, after one drink too many for both, when Saitou looked a particular shade of pitiable:

"You're having a crush, Saitou-san. How adorable."

His entire life was put in perspective with a simple sentence. He was not having a crush. He was a fully grown man of twenty three years; he did not have crushes. Hell, he had gotten married to a woman he loved and never had a crush. This was not it.

Then what was it?

Could Okita be right, in the sense that...his interest was less on the professional and more on the personal side? Could it be Saitou came to like this person enough to want her around just for the pleasure of her company and he was simply coming up with reasons to keep her to the unit? It...was not unheard of. Especially because their relationship had been so rocky to start with.

Still, "manly Saitou-san is taken by impressive Tokio-chan," was the general consensus of the captains, one Hijikata unabashedly supported, by offering coy smiles whenever that was mentioned. Bastard.

To their credit, they never did it when the woman herself was present, but undoubtedly it had made the rounds by now, so, there was no way it hadn't reached her ears. But to _her_ credit, she never made any mention of it. In the end, Saitou was forced to recognise these claims true; having a drink with just Okita and Nagakura, Harada and Toudou long gone with Umi-chan and friend, Tokio was mentioned. It had been harmless. It was just a throwaway line, a guys being guys type of thing. Yes, maybe a little inappropriate had she been there to hear it, but she wasn't. The very reason they said it. Still, Saitou was half-way insulted. The other half of him felt like slapping both. He was...protective of her. Her, that could easily kill them all and no one would have had much chance of putting up a fight.

Not that they hadn't improved themselves after the Jabberwock, but not to her level, no way.

So, he stopped just before he made a fool out of himself, catching his ire before it spread and grew; he swallowed his words along with his drink, bottoms up. He then looked to the two men at his table, who seemed to fully comprehend his issue, for some sort of help.

"Why don't we go to the red-light district after we're finished with everything tomorrow?" Nagakura graciously offered, his own solution. "It always works wonders when the mind is troubled: beautiful woman pouring your drink and caressing you at the same time. What can go wrong?"

Well, Okita did elude to it _all_ the freaking time, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. He shrugged, deciding to give it a shot.

.

"You look mighty displeased," an impressively dressed yujo teased him, layer upon layer of meaning laced in her silky voice "would you like my help?"

Tonight was the only night Tokio wasn't present by default; once they told her their destination, she lightly chuckled and kindly wished them fun. Okita tried to invite her, the idiot, but the way she shook her told them she saw through his ridiculousness. She made no further questions of their plans and left them alone.

They had arrived at this particular establishment no later than eight. All of them, even Kondou and Takeda joined, claiming it was a very traditional thing for men to do altogether—even Hijikata indulged, for the sake of union. But it was nearing nine and Saitou was the only man who hadn't left the common room. Everyone else had picked a beautiful woman and headed off to a private room, but he just didn't. No one had caught his eye.

And there this pretty woman was, trying to seduce him – and his money – promising all sorts of things with those expressive eyes.

He snorted. "I doubt you can help."

"I doubt I _can't_ , actually." His utter disbelief made her chuckle. "No man who enters my room troubled leaves the same way...you can ask Harada-san; or even Hijikata-sama." That did capture his interest; silently, provocatively, she nodded. "What makes you think your case is too special?"

"...but what if you can't, in the end?"

"I'll wave my fee."

"That's of no consequence to me."

She considered. "Then I shall help you any other way I can..."

"That sounds to my liking," he assented.

"You're quite used to getting your way, Saitou-san," the woman noted, surprised.

"I was." A self-depreciating snort later, his stare turned to her, calculative. "Let's just go before I talk myself out of it."

"Hmm," she mused aloud as she guided him to her room "what is it you're really looking for?"

"Oblivion," he immediately answered "to drink so much I can't walk away; I wanna get scolded by my superiors; be made fun of by the rest...do something out of character."

"From the looks of it, this is already out of character enough for you...but, so be it. I will grant your wish dutifully."

Natsuko, her courtesan name from what he gathered and not the real one, was very good at making him forget his problems. But not all the time; only moments. Some _very_ precise moments, in fact, when the drink in him was finally enough to allow her to touch him; touch him with her hands in places he rarely exposed to the weather; places he hadn't allowed anyone close since his wife's death. She touched him with her lips, too that had the capacity to render you completely numb for two seconds, ten, twenty, a hundred...but no more.

Maybe he wasn't build the same way as other people; or maybe he was just too stubborn. But he highly doubted her plan, or Nagakura's plan for that matter, was to confuse him, make him feel worse for good measure, after the confusion ebbed away, and yet that was exactly what happened.

He opened his eyes, looking at the dishevelled, nearly naked woman on top of him and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Saitou-san?"

"This isn't working," he finally admitted and felt as bitter and defeated as he looked.

He extricated himself from her and sat up, breathless and half naked. He looked at his hands and he felt them twitch with desire...for another's skin. Shocked, he buried his face in them.

She came to rest her chin on his shoulder. "But I thought you enjoyed it."

Did she have to guilt him even more? Yes, he was responding to her advances with his own, maybe he moaned some there, too but...it wasn't because of her; maybe some of it came from her efforts but not her. And that's what finally drove the point home. He now knew what was the problem: "I am in love with the worst possible person."

The woman blinked, taking a step back, trying to cover herself; now that the festivities died down, it was a little chilly. "Is it a man?"

"I wish...! No, it's a woman; the most infuriatingly headstrong, independent and smart woman I have ever met." A derisive snort. "The most unattainable one, too." He was nearing desperate now. "I am sorry, but this is not what I need right now."

This was maybe the exact opposite of what he needed, in fact; it was all well and good, until he realised his mind wasn't following properly. Her caresses had proved most distracting at first, enjoyable, too; feather-light but lingering touches; deliberate grazes of nails on his neck, his back, his chest...

Suddenly all he could think of was that day Tokio came to dress him; her own dexterous hands moving in and out with amazing precision and speed, but grazing him all the same: on his shoulder-blades, his back, his chest. But now it wasn't so accidental, and he felt electrified; a pleasant shiver ran down his spine at the thought, mixing with memory and in his mind's eye, he could clearly see their healer's hands circling his neck, sliding her hands underneath his hitatare, taking it off. Kissing his neck, slowly tracing his naked abs with those tormenting fingers, before going behind him. She took the hitatare and threw it on the floor, untangling him completely from the fabrics, kissing his shoulders and then moving back to the front, straddling him with no effort. He couldn't help his own hands from tracing her figure, sounds he never thought would ever come from him again so soon escaping...

But then his eyes cracked open; it wasn't Tokio. It was Natsuko. He could tell because the figure he ran his hands up and down didn't have the shape he expected; this woman was thinner, no muscles to speak of, or those sumptuous curves the men would admire from afar. Somehow his brain did a weird thing and, and...

He was at a loss. What was he even doing? How did he think this was a good idea? All he got out of this was a conclusion he hated to come to. Because, shit, what was he supposed to do with this information? He couldn't tell her! But he was...him; he couldn't sit still, either. Damn that Nagakura!

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"And say what?"

She shrugged, now fully but sloppily dressed. "Anything you want. Keeping it in hasn't helped so far, has it?" She wasn't wrong, he hated to admit. "Besides, I'd like to hear about her; it isn't every day a man comes in here and actually asks me not to have sex with him. Now I'm interested."

"She's...very kind. She may be the most caring and generous person I have ever met, too. Even if you hate yourself, she'll always find one good thing about you to make you feel better. I mean, she actually likes _me_ and I was horrible to her when we first met." He shook his head. "To think she actually risked her life for us, how stupid. But not to her—she'd gladly do it again."

He chuckled.

"I don't get her. I was never the self-sacrificing type, at least not when it wasn't the best choice. I don't know how she even exists, but she does and she's the most gentle yet unbending woman I have had the chance to meet. Because don't let her height fool you, she'll stand up for what she believes in as if she was a giant; being soft spoken does not mean she won't fight you, tooth and nail. But what she wants is hardly selfish, so you can't say no to her; if you do, you're heartless, or at least an asshole. And for some reason, although she can crumble you with ease, if you say no, she won't force you to change your mind. She just accepts it. She could pull rank on you, status, level; but no, not her. Despite being the strongest, she won't act like it. I am in a state of permanent confusion because of her." A sigh. "She makes me want to be better—a better person, a better fighter, someone who'll be able to protect her, even if she doesn't need protecting." There, he started sounding a little sour. "She doesn't need anyone, she does it all on her own and she's actually amazing at it, too. The best."

The woman smiled in an odd way. "And her name is Tokio."

He gave her a look at first that questioned everything and everyone; why would she know her name and all that...until he remembered Tokio was famous. And if this woman was half as smart as Takeda, she would have figured out he was talking about a woman in his unit—they all knew they were all men save for Tokio, so yeah, he was an idiot to be suspicious. Instead, he hang his head, fingers now intertwined, supporting his forehead.

"Am I so obvious?" She tried to comfort him with a pat and a smile. "Try pathetic, I get it."

"No, just...I have met Tokio-san myself. I agree with you. I find her compelling."

"Huh." He wasn't expecting that answer.

"She's too good to be real, I swear...! She treats women like me as if we were the local tavern owner, no prejudice. She's so bright, sometimes I think I can't look at her."

To think he would ever relate to a prostitute about a woman, he never thought it possible, but there they were. "She has sort of taken me and my friend under her wing, teaches us things; she tells us a lot of stories, too and I sort of knew who you were when I talked to you. I...wanted to meet you I guess," she revealed "see who was the man who thought so little of her, even for a short period of time. And then I met you and, well, this was the only thing I wasn't expecting to hear from you." She giggled. "But it make sense, in a way; boys tend to be mean to the one they like. A little immature, but not unheard of."

The way he glared made her giggle again. "You don't seem the type, but if the shoe fits..." She chuckled at his disapproval. "Whatever; all I'm trying to say is, you should treat her right. If not, then I will come and steal her away from you."

He was confused again. "Pardon?"

"You said you loved her, yes? And I know for a fact you are right, she likes you. Now, love from like is different, but not too far away. If you play your cards right, you could make her yours. But! If you don't treat her right, I will take her from you without hesitation."

"You'll..." His eyes grew smaller. "Natsuko, do you prefer women?"

She nodded vigorously; he looked taken aback. "What? Just because I'm a whore I can't love women?"

"No, by all means. I just wasn't expecting competition from a woman."

"Heh! Competition indeed. And don't forget, I'm a woman; I know exactly how to please one." He couldn't help the disbelieving laugh that escaped him then. "So, if I so much suspect you aren't treating her right—"

"—you'll steal her away, yes, I heard you the first time." They exchanged an amused look. "So, in the spirit of this night going nothing as I thought," being an understatement "what do you wanna do? I am supposed to be here for another hour." She shrugged; he was thoughtful. "Got any cards? I wouldn't say no to poker."

"Oh yes! I definitely have a deck stashed somewhere, I'll go look for it."

That must have been the most bizarre night he had ever had in his entire life, he mused as he left an hour later, with his pockets and his heart much lighter, but it was all good. Now that the fog had lifted and he knew exactly what he wanted, as unapproachable and distant as it may have seemed, at least he knew how to go about doing one of two things: forgetting about it, or going after it. He was conflicted again, yes, but, at the very least, now he had full knowledge of what he was getting himself into. And for the record, Saitou Hajime was not a quitter.

* * *

 **A/N** : Second to last chapter, done, aaaaye! Next one shit hits the fan big time, you're warned. You'll be surprised by the ending though, I think. Maybe the middle, too lol. Hope I do not disappoint. See you next chapter sweeties and as always, reviews are much appreciated. I love you all.

Kisses,  
FAI~!


	9. Not an update!

Hello my people! How have you been? It's been a while, I know.

But you see, I had a surgery! My hand finally had enough and I had to get an operation to fix it. According to the doctor, my right hand won't present with carpal tunnel syndrome again...but it was bad. It was pretty bad. They cut out two inches worth of muscle. The doctor also said the main nerve was asphyxiating and it had changed colour. At least I got it in time and nothing too bad happened. They did cut my wrist open though and it hurts like a bitch, despite all the pain-relief medicine I've been taking. My left hand's presenting with the same issue, too but thankfully nowhere near as bad as the right was.

Anyway, I don't want to drag this out because it's so tiring typing with only one hand, my non-dominant one (and also time consuming) so I'm wrapping this up by saying this:

I'm so very sorry but there won't be any updates this month. Doctor says I won't be getting rid of the stitches for another ten days and then I'll have to use it as little as possible. I'm so upset but also in such pain, I can't do much. I love you all. Be healthy and stay awesome.

Buh bye~!  
FAI, out.


	10. The Priestess and the Grump, Part five

**A/N** : Heeeeeeeeey! How are you wonderful people?

I hope better than me. My hand still hurts like a bitch, but the doctor said I have to move it, so I decided to indulge in a bit of typing. Which only means, I can write again, yay~! I still can't put enough force into it to pull up my _**stockings**_ , but hey, I can at least push some buttons. Success. Also, thank you so much for your concern and kind words. You are so sweet!

And no, I didn't write so many words in a few days; half of it was written before I had the surgery. But I hadn't updated in a while, so I figured I should post _something_ , hence, it won't be the last chapter, there'll be another one coming. But that's okay; I have to compromise, I know. Hope you like it, too.

 **By the way** , a note for you, my dear readers: the words _witch_ and _wizard_ that you'll see a little further down, are used as RPG classes, not to describe the sex of the person. A witch can be a man and a wizard can be a woman. Just a heads up.

Final word: enter the Battousai, aaaaaay. Bit different than you might expect but I believe it fits better. Btw, _all_ ages are doctored up a bit, to better fit the story. Sorry, not sorry.

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

This was the who-even-kept-count-anymore time he woke up in the middle of the night, chest heaving, cloths drenched with perspiration as he struggled to calm his heartbeat. It felt like, lately, every single night he went through the same: lie down, close his eyes and sleep almost immediately. But then, he woke up in the middle of the night, aftertaste of a forgettable nightmare bitter on his lips. The worst part of it was that the nightmare should not be forgettable, yet he could never remember what it was. At the same time, he knew, somehow, it was always the same one.

He shrugged off his nightwear, opting for something more formal; he decided he'd take a walk for the first time, in an effort to quiet his thoughts.

He wiped off the excess sweat clinging to his skin and wore the new set of clothes; grabbing only his sword as he left, instinct more than necessity, he found himself aimlessly walking by rows upon rows of tents. It felt so otherworldly when everyone was sleeping—even the lookouts. He clicked his tongue; he'd have a word with them one of these days.

His eyes caught movement.

They followed immediately and the outline of a familiar figure started forming. But if it was who he thought he glimpsed...why was he out this time of night? Something stirred in his chest, for all the wrong reasons. Deciding that the man's sneaking around was shadier than his decision of following a fellow comrade and captain around, he took to haunting the man's steps.

It was easier to stay undetected than he thought. Obviously, his target had taken comfort in the cover of the night a little too much: he wasn't being loud but he wouldn't call him noiseless either. In fact, other than looking over his shoulder once or twice, he appeared relaxed, taking his time at every step, even the ones lanterns illuminated.

With growing horror, Saitou realised the man's destination: Tokio's tent. It was the only tent in the certain remote direction. What with his new-found feelings and his preexisting protective streak, he seethed instinctively; he was either going to attack him right now or wait and see how this would play out. He decided on the latter, for no other reason than _maybe_ she had asked him to meet at that impossible time for some inexplicable reason.

But that was not the case. Although Saitou was spot on and the man now stood in front of her tent rigidly, psyching himself up, there was no light coming out—or cleric, and Saitou was left staring, eyes slits that gleamed in the dark. What was going to happen?

He held his breath.

That's when he saw, no, _heard_ it: the most familiar sound of a weapon being drawn. So common it was to him, he almost dismissed it. But the man bore no visible weapon...it was on his hip; _a dagger_. Only the shadow could be seen, but he had just unsheathed a dagger, standing in front of Tokio's tent, trying to talk himself into going in.

Alright. Saitou had seen enough; It was time to step in.i

Just as he moved to stop him, the man gathered the courage to lift the fabric and enter. A third thing happened then, one neither saw coming: the would-be attacker stumbled backwards, a most unrefined scream escaping him! It was short-lived thus woke up no one but damn was it loud. Immediately after that, he saw the edge of another weapon, a mace this once, forcing him out, who was, by now, in a mild state of panic. The dagger had long fallen to the ground, stepped on during his fearful retreat.

"I gave you ample time to see the error of your ways," he heard Tokio's voice break the silence and now he saw her whole, too, stepping out of her tent in her nightwear "to repent and admit to your sins; I had hoped you'd act smart and begin anew. Hoped...but now I see you wasted all of it. What's more, you came here with the clear intention of ending my life."

His face contorted into desperation, he started breathing heavily. "N, no, I—"

"Do not take me for a fool, Takeda Kanryuusai," she thundered and the man swallowed his words quicker than Saitou blinked "or do you want me to believe you carried that blade to cut the grass overgrown at my tent's door at this time of night, when no one would be around to see you do it?"

He recoiled as if slapped; Tokio snorted in triumph. Saitou was simply dumbfounded. "So what am I to do about this slithering snake I found? Do tell, Takeda-san; what would you do in my place?"

Saitou could picture his face turning ashen, but he could also notice how the man started walking away, bent nearly in half, hands up in the air."P, please, Tokio-sama...please show mercy."

"I did, once; I never show mercy for the same reason twice. I'm afraid I have to report you. You're coming with me **now** and we'll have a lengthy chat with Hijikata-sama."

"T, Tokio-sama, no; please. You know he'll have me killed!"

"Death isn't the only punishment one can receive."

Saitou worried; the longer they spent talking, the more Takeda bent forward, trying to appear innocent when he definitely was not. He must have been hiding something and that thought alone put him on full alert. But he still decided not to intervene; she had this under control. But at the same time...did she?

"Move, Takeda-san."

"I beg of you, Tokio-sama" he literally fell to the ground, causing her eyebrow to quirk "don't take me to him." He grabbed her fabrics and shook her. "Allow me to escape tonight."

Saitou felt his blood boiling; he had no idea what he'd done, but for Tokio to be this cold with him, it was nothing _he_ could ever forgive.

"You aren't of this unit; the men here hate you." This asshole! "Why should you do anything for them; why should you care?"

"Stand, Takeda-san; we are going. I won't ask you again."

But he didn't; he only stayed on the ground, hands on his head, desperation coming off of him in waves. Tokio sighed. She hated when they decided to do it the hard way, but what else could be done? She actually bent low, to grab him and make him stand.

It happened in an instant: from within his sleeve, a dart shot out with one sharp movement and lodged itself in Tokio's neck.

 _Shit_ ; Saitou broke into a sprint; Takeda let out a terrible, victorious laugh, not aware of the captain watching yet, as the woman looked at him shocked, offended beyond belief and paralyzed.

The poison started taking effect! Takeda all but clapped at her reaction while Saitou momentarily stood ramrod straight, immobile. Then he blinked again. Next thing he knew, Tokio was huffing, quite irritated yet at the same time _so_ worn out, grabbing the dart and pulling it out of her skin as if it was a simple thorn.

Saitou stared; Takeda gawked.

She then proceeded to slap the man, still on the ground, who looked exceedingly horrified. "What did we learn?" She brandished the damn dart in his face, making him flinch. "What did we learn?"

"Wh...at did we...?"

"Poisons don't work on me; and this ain't sharp!" She threw it on the ground with a vengeance and grabbed him by the collar! "This could only serve to make me furious!"

Saitou was mildly impressed with her; a little turned on, too he wouldn't lie.

"Try this nonsense again and I will haul your unconscious, bleeding body to the commander all on my own. But if you wish to get there intact, I suggest you stand up right now and move or I swear to all the gods I can think of that could be on my side, I **will** render you unconscious."

"I don't want to die," came his strangled reply, tears colouring his voice; so pathetic he was, Tokio had to let go of him.

"Then you should not have attempted to kill another to protect your secret. Now the chips will fall however they are meant to." With a look of unrivalled superiority, she crossed her hands. "And you can come out now; I know you're there."

Takeda was caught by surprise at her words; and when they both watched none other than the strictest, most fearsome captain of all walk out into the – relative – light, Takeda all but faded.

"Ah, Hajime. What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep; took a walk. And then all this happened."

"Then you wouldn't mind escorting us to Hijikata-sama, I presume?"

The smirk that graced his lips both people would forever remember as the sadist's ultimate pleasure. "Not by a long shot."

They didn't sleep again that night, not Tokio, not Saitou and certainly not Hijikata. Kondou was woken only after Hijikata was treated to the entire story, which was in the wee hours of the morning anyway, so they decided not to bother him until five, but the vice commander spent all those hours trying to come up with the most appropriate punishment. To both people's surprise, he asked for their opinions. Saitou was training to be a vice commander himself, he'd said, and Tokio's rank was already equal to that, no need to be modest.

"His crime was leaking information to third parties that benefited from our potential dissolving; let him be the milestone for our unity and triumph," Saitou had suggested immediately.

"What do you propose?"

"Send him to the capital; have the Empress pass judgment on him." Tokio was impressed; Hijikata was curious. "We are only thinking of this from the unit's standpoint. But there are more perspectives out there. Who's better than her highness and her people to decide if he was acting against her interests or not? Expel him from the unit, as you should, but his life should be in her Majesty's hands. She will have better informants, too and will be able to know the full extent of his betrayal."

"That's...quite a tempered solution," the vice commander noted, a little proud yet a little suspicious.

"Why should we dirty our hands because of him? We should be famous for our abilities, not internal strife."

"I couldn't agree more," she condoned in relative awe. "How you handle this case will forever serve as an example and lay the foundations of your ethics to the public. So far, you've been slaying monsters and that's great, but you haven't faced a human threat. This will be it. Show them you're better than all those corrupt lords who kill whoever might threaten their sovereignty, for whatever reason."

"I see..." he finally deliberated. "We shall do as you requested." He took a proper look at both after a long time and a crooked smile was seen. "You two have grown in ways I would have never expected." He chuckled. "Who would have thought _leaving_ was the best decision I ever made for this unit?"

"Thank you Hijikata-sama," she shyly accepted his praise. "But now, if you don't mind, I think I shall retire to my tent." The sun hadn't risen yet, but it was very close to the break of dawn. "For as long as I am able."

"Ah, yes, of course; both of you are excused. Meanwhile, Takeda and I are going to have a very nice, long talk."

That forebode troubles for the bound and recently gagged man on the tent's floor; with a last, harsh smirk in his direction, Saitou lifted the tent's door open for Tokio to pass through.

"Quite the wise council," she started the conversation herself, once they were alone. Her eyes travelled to his, eyebrows raised challenging. He simply inclined his head in recognition.

Ah man, it felt it had been too long she addressed him like this; it was almost unfair how much he wanted her to just keep talking, no matter what the topic was. "Quite the little cut you have there, too" he deflected instead and pointed to her bleeding neck with a nod.

"Parting gift from Takeda...but you already knew that." He kept silent. "That's the second wise decision you've made in the span of five minutes." He couldn't help the knowing grin, especially when she mirrored it. "How come you didn't step in?"

"You could handle it." She nodded. "Though it was quite difficult," he admitted in the end and it was worth it because her giggle was music to his ears.

"I can understand; I saw you. Still, I appreciate the fact you ultimately gave me my space and at the same time, thank you for your concern."

"You don't have to be so nice, you know. You can say what's on your mind."

"But that's what's on my mind."

"Can't be the only thing, yes?" He looked at her for a long time, studying her face; his stare was probing as much as appreciative. "Have you reached a decision yet?"

A knowing smile formed, eyes darting away; she was trying to kindly avoid the question but he wouldn't let her. Literally. He grabbed her by the middle, no force behind it, but it more than served its purpose, as it rendered her immobile.

She sighed, a little colour in her cheeks. If he wasn't staring at her so closely, she would have time to think more than just how distracting this all was. "...not yet."

"You're very conflicted about this...I am satisfied."

"Hey!"

A smirk. "I just think you suffer because it means you care."

"I always care," she mumbled, more to herself than him. "And it's getting late; I have to go. Also, don't think the fact you were unable to sleep, thus properly rest, escaped my notice. Once I'm done praying, you and I shall have a talk."

He shrugged. "I won't be sleeping; and what do you mean pray?"

"I always pray to my God at the break of dawn Hajime, how do you think I get my powers?" She asked something between amused and disbelieving. "I'm a cleric, not a wizard." She shook her head, lifting her door. "See you in fifty minutes."

When she said fifty minutes, he didn't realise she meant _exactly_ fifty minutes. He was still meditating, a poor but sufficient supplement to his ruined rest, sitting up in his bed, when she unceremoniously walked into his tent.

An eye popped open. It closed again.

"Why aren't you wearing your armour?" She gave him _the look_. "We've been over this."

"Know what, this is it; I'm not wearing any kimono of any kind around you again! Just my old adventuring gear, I swear." Something between flabbergasted and defeated she sat down opposite him, though she was mindful enough to be proper about it. "So, talk. Why couldn't you sleep?"

He swallowed. "I've had a nightmare."

"...Hajime, don't take this the wrong way, but I have been noticing a slump in your performance lately." He did tense, but to his credit said nothing. "Could this not be the first time you lost sleep?"

"It's been going on for two weeks now."

" _Weeks_?" He nodded. "Hajime, that's too long! No warrior can—..." She took a deep breath, honest to god disturbed. "Why didn't you come to me the _third_ time this happened? We've been in the same place for three weeks now, people start to notice us, know our names. A lot of good **and** bad can come from that, such as _curses_."

Hold on. "You think I am cursed?"

"Is this a recurring nightmare?"

Wow, wow, wow; how could that be her first question. "Yes." Now he was just as upset as her. It was way too specific of a thing to ask, she must suspect something. " _You think I'm cursed_?"

"You, the unit, the ground, the camp, the captains, who knows...it could be a number of other things, too but a curse is the first thing that comes to mind."

"Can you make it go away?"

She actually smiled at his concern. "Of course I can, who do you think you're dealing with?"

Her behaviour suddenly changed then and without hesitation she smacked him! "Two weeks! What do you think would happen if you didn't tell me? It's obviously not going away on its own. No matter how self-sufficient you think you are, after four days you should have-..." A long suffering sigh escaped her. "What an idiot. No wonder there's a slump in your performance—you're exhausted! Though I can fix that, too, you know."

His look was challenging.

"Come here, I'll show you."

She brought her fingertips together and muttered an incantation; then she intertwined her fingers and immediately let go, putting one palm beneath the other and joining hands; after a second, she touched him and...poof. That unmistakable feeling of fatigue that had been dragging his feet and eyes down just disappeared.

He looked at himself. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Have an answer for everything?"

She clicked her tongue. "For the umpteenth time, this. Is what. Clerics do!" She could have slapped him again, so furious she was. "This is why I'm saying you're all stupid; this is why I need to stay with you even if I don't want to—you're all children!"

Had she been less disciplined, she would have grabbed him by the arms and shook him. "You're hopeless. And I am going to get to the bottom of this curse tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Doesn't it come every night?"

"Yeah...I'm just surprised you can take care of it so soon."

This once she did slap him—once, upside the head. "What an idiot." She looked around then. "It only happens when you go to sleep?"

"After I sleep, I see the nightmare I can never remember and jolt awake."

"You know it's the same although you can never remember it?" He nodded. "That's a sign; also, I sense no evil auras in here, meaning whatever it is, comes or activates at night—or maybe you falling asleep triggers it. Whatever it is, I promise to take care of it. But."

She faltered; then she looked left, then right; but most importantly, not at him.

"Out with it already."

"You won't like the method."

"How bad can it be?"

.

That morning, the entire unit was in an uproar!

Takeda's arrest and almost instantaneous booting back to the capital, left the unit with one less captain and a govern-less squad. His men hadn't particularly cared for him, nor did anyone else, but this turned out to be a blow to their morale in another way: everyone would look at the other a little more suspiciously now, trying to uncover any hidden agendas. The four commanding figures, that now included Tokio, played peacemaker and managed to keep things under control; the fact Hijikata promptly gave Tokio command of Takeda's unit helped a great deal—to both causes: get the men to calm down and give the cleric a little confidence boost as well as one more reason to stay behind.

All in all, it was quite the eventful day...that did not, could not, hold a candle to the night that followed.

Once Takeda's deal was sorted out, Tokio turned to Saitou's issue: he could not rest properly at night, rendering him weaker every morning, putting him and everyone around him in peril, because he was probably cursed. She asked for permission to fix it, which she was instantaneously granted. Thus, Saitou found himself being escorted to his tent at an earlier than usual time of night, barely nine thirty, by none other than their cleric.

"So, what are you supposed to do here?"

And that was when he nearly had a heart attack.

"I must spend the night." He stared. "All night." He took a step backwards; she huffed. "How will I be able to figure out what's going on otherwise?"

She'd what now? "Does Hijikata know?" She nodded _naturally_. "And he signed off on it!?"

She had to chuckle at his incredulity; his extreme traditional ethics seemed so amusing, wait until she returns in her _sleep_ wear. She giggled to herself. "Yes, he did; this isn't the terrible situation you make it out to be...though I did say you wouldn't like the method."

"A man and a woman who aren't married should never sleep together for any reason, ever; it isn't proper."

She really wanted to laugh; he was so adorable, with his slightly rising colour and tone of voice as well as exceedingly puritan dogmas. She knew if it was anyone else, they wouldn't have minded; she couldn't picture Toudou, for instance, pitching a fit like this, nearing desperation to get out of it; but Hajime did. It was so in character, she wanted to pat herself on the back.

"I don't want to bombard you with spells and hope one sticks, I won't be able to know what the cause was—and I won't cast a spell per day, just to make sure I got it right. Besides, if it's something random so be it, but if you were specifically targeted, we have to know. And this is the only way."

"But...my bed is so small..." Too small for his current state of mind. Just the thought of—shit.

"I would have **loved** to do this in the comfort of _my_ tent and bed, but it could be localised. I won't take any chances." She shrugged. "We're only going to sleep, Hajime; you can stand sleeping next to me for one night, yes?"

"That's...I don't...the point..."

"If it makes you feel any better, though I won't be wearing my armour – no one can properly rest in a full plate armour," she had to immediately cut him off, seeing he was about to go off the deep end at the mere mention "I won't be wearing a kimono either." He calmed a little at that. "Those things hitch up and become a mess."

"They do; wise decision."

"When have I made any unwise ones?" she threw back with ease, tossing her hair that she just now had put down. "Now, I shall go change; don't fall asleep until I come back."

She heard him snap "who can fall asleep so fast anyway" as he rolled his eyes and she made her exit. He turned out to be quite the fun person to poke fun at, who would have thought. That was why she was compelled to tease him, she would justify to herself, especially with her dress as she was about to, because he had pleasing, albeit ridiculous reactions. It was nothing as complicated as growing feelings she might have had, no attachments to speak of.

After all, she mused as she hang her armour on the mannequin, he was all but impossible when she first got there. There was no way she was, say, growing fond of him and his protective personality. The way before he even admitted to accepting her as a comrade, he would readily fight a man who tried to poison her; or casually walk her to her room; or begrudgingly respect her. Nah, not her, she decided as she finally put on her boots, ready to go. And it wasn't like she appreciated his overly formal yet surprisingly informal attitude and manners more than anyone else's; nor did she feel attracted to his distinctively non-wandering eyes and respectful approach to her. No, it was just...fun to tease him. Right?

"You haven't slept yet, yes?"

He clicked his tongue, ire evident, thankfully turned the other way. He had barely finished tying his sash, what was she doing? Didn't anyone tell her to warn before walking in? "That is no way to announce your-..."

But the words died in his mouth as his eyes fell on her. He blinked, assuring this was real. After moments of internal struggle not to gape, he spoke only when he was sure his voice wouldn't flactuate. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh this? This is my adventuring attire!"

Her smile was sweet, innocent and cute...the exact opposite of her appearance: a corset-like thing, coupled with the loose fabric of the tunic underneath it, complimented her figure a little too much and why did she have to have so many curves? They posed no issue went they went unseen but now they were right there in his face. If he wasn't so sure of himself, he would have legitimately worried about doing or saying anything too forward. Well, he wouldn't but...

...but that didn't mean he had to be constantly tempted.

"Do you jest?" was all he sais instead, as unemotional as he had to be.

Because, he couldn't wrap his mind around this extremely tight outfit that actually had _pants,_ giving shape to her thighs—things he definitely didn't want to think about before going to sleep. Or her waist. And that damn pouch and the utility belt were all attached on the hip, too, gods have mercy.

"No."

Shit. _Shit._ "Why does everything have to be so...form-fitting?"

"How are they going to stay in place otherwise?"

And she was still maintaining the innocent act, dear Shizuru. " _Nothing_ needs so little room to breathe."

She actually laughed out loud, at the first real display of emotion from the man, who looked a mixture between shy and disapproving. "Don't be too judgmental of this outfit; I'll have you know I walked around in it daily, not half a year ago." He finally gaped and she had to giggle, again. "All of it, plus a pretty cloak."

And then it clicked. "Wait, you walked from your tent all the way here looking like this?"

"Obviously."

Aaaaand he was jealous. He felt it creeping up on him and then blowing up in his face all at once. "Did people see you?"

"Yes."

"...don't wear this again, ever; and don't walk around like this. There are only men here."

"And yet, you're the only one complaining."

So many things threatened to spill from his mouth and none of them would have made things better; still, it felt bitter to saying nothing, so he deemed wiser not to voice those intrusive _mine_ thoughts and instead quip "this is inappropriate."

"I warned you; you didn't listen." Just as he was about to start again, she shook her head, defeated but amused. "Just lie down, you big baby."

She said nothing else until he did as she instructed; how stubborn. "Tell me what I need to do."

"You don't need to do anything out of the ordinary; pretend I'm not here and go through your usual routine. In fact, you must, if I am to figure out what's wrong."

A tentative stare; she nodded again, as reassurance. He shrugged.

So, he sat up and made himself comfortable; eyes closing, he took a pose that told her he either prayed or meditated. When his entire face relaxed and shoulders loosened, it was verified; it looked like he became taller for a second, letting go of an invisible weight. Breath in...and out; on repeat. It hadn't been more than ten minutes, but he felt he had rested for an hour! Rejuvenated, he picked up his candle and blew it out...trying to expel the thought Tokio had laid down _in his bed_ next to him. Actually, she was sitting up, but she was still there, underneath his covers, in arm's reach.

It felt a little too surreal. Considering his awful experience with that geisha, the images it created as well as how close it was to this moment, his skin crawled. "Goodnight Hajime," she wished before he turned his back on her, just to focus on actually sleeping.

And yet, it was also surreal how easily he fell asleep in her presence. He wasn't a trusting individual, but something about her put him at ease. Either due to her chosen profession or the fact he finally decided to embrace his feelings for her, even if he might never act on them, or both, he managed to turn off his brain and just...let go.

He fell asleep.

When his eyes fluttered open again, it was morning.

It hadn't registered at first; nothing did, in fact. He just lay there for a long, satisfying moment, suspended between sleep and alertness; something pleasant tickled his nostrils, a scent familiar but not quite. Something soft lay in his hands, his head snuggled in it; and the oddest sensation of warmth had spread from head to toe. He moved all his extremities and he determined whatever was in his hands extended down to his legs; that was odd. What was it?

He had to open his eyes to find out, but he was too lazy. Mentally complaining to himself, he decided it was high time he did and stirred, eyes cracking open. Oh, it was just hair. Wait; hair? Black hair...and a flowery scent.

He froze.

Finally, he came to face the undeniable facts: he had a firm hold on Tokio, who had her back to his chest, dragged from her spot on the bed in his arms. For half a minute, he stopped breathing completely. Shocked, a little ashamed and certainly in a mild state of panic, he tried letting go, putting her back in place without waking her, but it was no use. The moment he so much as moved his muscles, she stirred. Fuck. What was he going to say now? He didn't even remember doing this.

"Good morning Hajime," she said through yawns "I see you're finally awake."

"Finally?"

"Ah, yes;" she stretched and twisted, turning to face him "I stood, went to the corner and prayed but you didn't wake; then I came back to check on you and you didn't even stir; you just grabbed me."

Unsettled, he almost shot up. "Grabbed you?"

She pushed him on his back gently. "Don't fret, many people act weird when sleeping." She stretched again, slowly rising. She tried to stand, but she fell back down. "Besides, you first did it when I was removing the curse; it worked like muscle memory the second time, I guess." This once she was more determined...so she managed to sit up, legs folded underneath her. Her eyes still wouldn't fully open, head to the side.

"So, I was cursed after all..."

"Indeed; and not at random." Despite the distaste in her voice as well as the antipathy in her curled lip, she didn't manage to sound anything other than adorable with her head wobbling. "We'll talk about this more later, but someone's been targetting you for...weeks now." Another long yawn broke off her speech. "And to think you didn't even come to me...such a child..."

It was clear as day she wanted to scold him again, but couldn't convincingly do it, for she was still sleepy; there was no way she was used to getting up these hours of the day, she overslept because of him and now she couldn't make it go away.

He was watching her the entire time; he watched as she finally gave in, turned to the sun rays and soaked them in, in an effort to properly open her eyes. But the way the light was catching her frame was very unique; he didn't bother looking away.

Still, she felt his eyes on her and turned to him curious.

"You are beautiful," he said after some thought, "but it gets burried under all that armour and dirt." He noticed how her cheeks dusted with pink and he decided to be more forthcoming. "We all expected you different, you know; when the Empress called for you, we were so sure one of those beauties with the silk kimono would step forward, but instead, _you_ walked in wearing a goddamn full plate adamantine armour." He chuckled. "We were all exceedingly jealous. But you were very respectful about it, so most were satisfied, me excluded."

She smacked him; knowing it was long overdue, he just shook his head amused. "I just couldn't accept I could ever be so wrong," he admitted, mirth evident "and you were nothing like the spoiled beauty we feared. You are cute though; that's worse. You can get your way without us feeling like you forced us into it."

She laughed in her hand and the way she shook was so very much like her, he felt like touching her. Some deep, repressed part of him made some kind of promise then, but he wasn't paying attention to anything other than her. "Then again, you are surrounded by men who have no reason or sense to refuse you."

"Why are you telling me all these?"

She spoke through chuckles, but the question was there. He considered.

"I am a traditional man; it's an unwritten rule of tradition of men to divulge secrets to the woman you wake up next to."

"But these aren't _secrets_ per se..."

"Well, we only slept together and it's not a euphemism."

She snorted with laughter. "Are you flirting with me, Hajime? Or are you insinuating something?"

His lips had curled into a small smirk but he decided to close his eyes. "You're lying on a bed next to me, dressed like that; don't expect me to answer your question." Her complete lack of movement tempted him to open his eyes and see her expression, but refrained. "And now, go away, your highness; we both need to change and wake properly."

She still wouldn't move and now he was _very_ tempted to sneak a peak, but he decided to give her time, even if it felt like an eternity later she finally went through the motions of standing. He knew because he could no longer feel her heat next to him and felt a little disappointed. Well, that gave him a little perspective, come to think of it; maybe he shouldn't have said the last three things he did. Maybe he made her feel completely uncomfortable, hence the silence. Damn, he was overthinking everything now, especially since after standing, she wouldn't move at all.

 _Just open your eyes_ , he'd tell himself but he wouldn't. The shame prevented him.

"Do you mind if I borrow this?"

Huh; she sounded normal. He finally did open an eye to her general direction and saw her draped in one of his previously misplaced hitatare, the blue one he'd been searching for ages in fact – where the hell was it – looking over herself. "I'm kind of freezing. The weather has gotten worse but for reasons I shall explain later, I hadn't really been feeling the cold till now."

"Sure, use it."

"Thanks. I shall return it as good as new!"

A wide smile later, she was darting out the door...wearing his clothes. Forget what would the men say, should they see her; his own mind came to a screeching halt the moment he saw her in it. What was it with men that found women wearing their clothes so appealing? Was it a big deal only because he was possessive as a person? Was it because this particular woman would never wear something like that? Or was it just the implication?

He didn't know, but shit, it didn't dampen the feeling at all. What did dampen it though was one thought: he had to report to Hijikata.

Tokio rushed to her tent, despite knowing the only ones left behind were Hijikata and a couple of men, guarding the encampment. This time of day, they had all left—she actually heard them departing, when she was just lying there, wide awake, for about fifteen minutes before finally forcing herself to go back to sleep. Two men from Saitou's unit wanted to call on their captain, to tell them if they should also head out, even under Okita's leadership, but they were hesitant going in. So, they resorted to debating right outside his door. The orders from Hijikata were clear: no one was to disturb Saitou before he came out of his tent. He had some health problems that Tokio had to take care of and were serious enough she shouldn't be bothered. And yet, it was morning. It should be okay now, right? The man did say if something was important they could go in.

"This isn't, idiots!" Daichi came out of nowhere, scolding both. "The captain needs his rest and Tokio-sama is working hard to make him better; don't go to him with such stupid an issue. Go to whatever unit you want; I personally chose to go with Toudou-san."

"Yessir," they enthusiastically saluted and all three voices disappeared after some rustling.

To address him as such, he must be the second in command; made sense. The man was very abrasive and daring, two traits Saitou certainly holds in high regard...Saitou, who was right behind her, his hands firm around her middle. They would move away from time to time, but not for too long; he'd either grab her anew or lay his hand out, beneath her head and the other would hold on to her stomach.

It was so...intimate. She felt her cheeks burn bright as well as her skin crawl. This was probably the least "proper" thing ever happened to her and yet it was the most proper man in the country to do it. Well, he was asleep; he had no control over it. And he used to be married. Last time he ever slept with another woman he was probably much more intimate with her. This was...left over muscle memory. Coupled with the fact removing the curse had been so eventful, and he grabbed her then, too, it made sense.

So, why was her face so hot damn it?

Maybe because it had felt really nice to be held so close, it was snuggly. For the very first time in her life, she felt...protected while sleeping, and not the most vulnerable. Every single time she removed her armour and lay down, she was defenseless; and after some particularly nasty midnight ambushes, she was always, in the back of her mind, a little uncomfortable with lying down to sleep. But not tonight! It was so weird, really, and it didn't feel half bad to have him rest his head on her back, or shoulder, or at the top of her own head while sleeping.

She could feel her cheeks burning right this moment, as she walked back to her tent and kept thinking back to it. She'd been so shameless, and she even told him, too! To admit that after she got up to pray, instead of leaving, as she should have, she went back to him...to check him—as if! He was no longer cursed, she herself stopped it. She just wanted to look at him one more time, though why, she had no idea. Deep down, she wanted to crawl back into his bed, his arms, his warmth...but she didn't dare. She'd simply brushed his hair back, making sure he wasn't running any leftover fevers, and...and...and actually kissed him. On the forehead.

She could make up all the excuses she wanted, there was only one truth: she wanted to comfort him, feel him close; so she did it. Had she, even for a moment, suspected that would lead him to actually grab on to her again? _No_. Had she minded? Definitely not. And that was the part that drove her insane.

She never experienced anything like this before, it was dumbfounding. Then he went ahead and called her beautiful and her mind was _boggled_ so she had to react some other way than stare blankly at him so she asked something stupid, but his answer...it threw her in a state. Her heartbeat was irregular and she shivered. Was it...desire? It shocked her enough to render her completely defenseless.

Alright, that was too much for her addled thoughts; time to go.

He had asked her to, if she remembered correctly, time to abide by him for once. She wordlessly stood and moved to go. But her legs wouldn't do as she commanded them. Her mind was fixated on how warm he'd kept her and now she had to take something of his with her—oh. That seemed adequate. She reached out and grabbed a dark blue fabric she found wedged between his desk and sitting pillow within arm's reach; she wrapped up in it. Forcing herself into a neutral expression she opened her mouth then and played the good little girl while feeling the exact opposite.

Even now, she wouldn't take it off, standing right in front of her armour stand. She didn't want to. And just like that, Tokio could no longer deny it; what she never thought would happen, especially on this assignment, and she feared would happen too late in her life to actually pursue, happened: she developed non platonic feelings for someone. Not just anyone, too; the most infuriating man in her entire life.

Somehow, this was just like her.

.

"Report," Hijikata demanded.

Both parties involved, stood before him with military discipline, no signs of discomfort between them visible. That satisfied the vice-commander to say the least; this didn't turn out the stupid romance situation Okita predetermined it.

"Someone was actively cursing him as he lay to sleep; it wasn't some sort of one-time curse that activated during the late hours of the night." That was news to both men. "Some witch or wizard, a cleric, an oracle or even a druid, chanted the curse every single night he received the nightmare."

A pause, to look both in the eye, one after another.

"This is high level stuff; it's someone powerful. Also, it's someone who knew your sleeping patterns." Just as the two men present seemed to realise what she was getting at, she all but blurted it out: "I am certain Takeda was directly involved in this and the reason he attempted to kill me was because he knew I was the only one able to save his life, night after night."

Hijikata's chest expanded with anger; Saitou's swelled with fury; hers followed, just to release the breath a second later. "I believe all Takeda wanted was to have Saitou killed, thinking he would be the next to be trained for your spot, Hijikata-sama; but to do it, he unwittingly recruited a very dangerous individual, with completely different objectives in mind. After all, other than knowing your sleeping patterns, this curse gets that much stronger and dangerous, if you have something of your target's in your possession. Such as hair or a worn article of clothing."

"...he did follow me into battle once," Hajime thoughtfully admitted "which was a first; about a month ago. I ended up using a tourniquet that day, per his suggestion; said it would stop the bleeding before Tokio got to me."

Hijikata hummed. "So, that's how he got it."

"Blood is catastrophic in the hands of a skilled caster; no wonder it was that tricky to undo." A hand flew to her mouth, made into a fist. "It is safe to assume Takeda delivered it to the perpetrator around the time the nightmares started; but if we are to figure this out, we need to know who the man or woman is."

She looked up at Hijikata. "We need to speak to the snake." Then turned to Saitou. "Meanwhile, you think really hard if you ever pissed anyone that powerful off; they are as strong as, if not stronger than you now, but they weren't so powerful before. They have to be nocturnal creatures out of habit, too otherwise, they wouldn't be able to pull this off for consecutive weeks."

"I will," he assured.

"I'll contact her Highness, ask her to interrogate Takeda for us about the certain subject and tell us whatever he admits to." She was about to leave, but stopped short, turning to both. "I believe...this is directly linked to Shishio. And we have to move as soon as possible. That's all."

"Wait, Tokio-san!" But she was gone. Hijikata sighed. "Go after her, will you? Ask her how the hell she managed to remove the curse and what type it was; she didn't tell us the basics, damn it! And once you know, come tell me."

"Yessir."

He bowed in a hurry and darted out the tent after her. "Tokio, will you slow down?"

"I need to contact Ameiko."

"Do that, but tell me this first: if this curse was so potent and lethal how the hell am I still alive? And how the hell did you make it go away?"

She sighed. "Come with me," she all but mumbled but said nothing else until they got to her tent. "Get in."

She went in after him. Without delay, she stood over her mirror, speaking two words; she motioned for him to approach, too so he did. After some seconds, their reflections disappeared, and in their place, the Empress Amatatsu Ameiko appeared, beautiful and dignified as ever. Instinctively, the man bowed deeply, causing her highness to crack a very informal smirk.

"We have company today! If you'd told me, I'd have worn my stern expression, Tokio."

"Oh hush; don't tease him, he'll explode."

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, saving a glare for the cleric – only because it was considered a capital offense to glare at the ruler of your land – .

"Remember the man I sent you yesterday?"

"Ah, but of course! He's been signing like a bird."

"What has he been signing about?"

"His ass mostly, and how he was in no way intending to ever betray me or his unit. How asinine."

"Alright; ask him this instead: who was the man or woman he hired to kill Saitou?"

The Empress, in a most uncharacteristic way, allowed her utter surprise to show. "He what?" Tokio shrugged, knowing there was nothing else to be said. "Who is that?" The cleric's head nodded to her right, where Saitou was standing. "Ah, _that's_ why he's joining us. And how did he try to kill him?"

Tokio became a little angry in that moment herself; Ameiko was impressed. "Bastard employed someone to curse him; had to use two different spells to stop it and one to make sure it was gone."

"Curse? So another cleric perhaps?" Ameiko took a shot.

"I'm leaning towards wizard—or witch for this was no simple curse. It was bastardised from another type of curse, which presents itself as a disease; arcane casters have a better affinity for tempering with nature and the unnatural at the same time. But _witches..._ they like curses; and being meddlesome; and stirring their big round cauldrons..."

"I heard that!" the Majesty's treasurer snubbed from somewhere in the background.

"Hush, you witch!" Ameiko wearily snapped. Unwittingly, she put a hand on her stomach. "This is all so annoying...but we'll ask; don't worry, we have the right people for the job." Very unceremoniously, her highness winked to both people. "I'll get back to you in an hour tops."

Tokio was more than happy at that. "I'll be here to receive you."

.

It had barely been half of that time, when the mirror vibrated; two more command words later, the image now showed a snarling Ameiko, head turned half-way back. When she turned to face them, she didn't relax her face, but her hand unconsciously moved to her stomach again, for but a second. "That bastard contracted a wizard that escaped you a year back to do it."

Saitou grew dark. "Hanahomura," he all but spat the word.

"The one and only; the same Hanahomura one of our spies made a note was affiliated with Shishio, over half a year ago."

"I knew it," Tokio bit out "I knew it." Now she shook her head and turned to communicate her indignation to the man who was almost growling at the news. "Shishio feared our approach and asked her to find Takeda."

"You have no idea how right you are." Ameiko's eyes were dangerous. "He admitted she was the one who made contact first; claimed he was worried for his safety so just did as she asked. When I asked him why didn't he just ambush her, he finally admitted he enjoyed the prospect of Saitou leaving the picture."

Saitou snorted.

"So, she tried a couple of times but without the blood, it was too weak against your willpower." He couldn't help feeling smug at that admission. "So, she got Takeda to secure his blood. After that, it should have been a matter of days, if not hours, but for some reason, he never died." She shrugged. "He suspected you were behind it but couldn't do much...until he met with her again and you caught him red-handed."

Tokio's eyes widened significantly. "That striking, red-head beauty I saw him with?"

"Yes," Saitou was the one who ascertained it "that sounds like Hanahomura."

"I caught him in the company of Hanahomura, whom I thought was a courtesan, as well as a renowned politician, whom I know for a fact to be a bastard and a half. I was under the distinct impression Takeda was planning on somehow taking command of the unit...had no idea the true person of interest was the woman."

"Him, she used some sort of spell or potion to control; he's her facade, posing as his mistress. We've been trying to track him down for months," Ameiko admitted.

Saitou nodded. "She's always used both her brain and her charms to do things; at first, she tried seducing us. Only when that proved fruitless did she resort to violence."

"She's a formidable opponent."

"We'll face her when the time comes," the man next to her promised, with a hand on her shoulder and death in his eyes "and she won't escape me a second time."

"You? Personally?"

"Long story," he turned to the Empress "anything else of interest?"

"You were the only target whose blood she acquired and none else was openly targeted. That is all he said. He also emphasised how he was only trying to take a rival out and nothing else; the only reason he turned on Tokio was because the woman implied you had to be taken care of. Coupled with the fact you witnessed his misdeeds, it didn't take long for him to move." Ameiko snorted. "What an idiot; to not even realise how severely outclassed he was."

"Meh," Tokio made a face " _all_ men are."

"True," Ameiko agreed easily, a hand lazily patting her stomach.

"Ahem," Saitou cleared his throat once more.

"You are the worst offender, so hush," Tokio teased, but the smile was enough for him to drop it. But then it transitioned from a grin to a frown and looked at her highness very solemn. "Ameiko, are you pregnant?"

Both Empress and Captain looked at her dumbfounded, reeling from the sudden change of subject. "Tokio, what in—...?"

Saitou was about to call her crazy, but noticed how expertly the other woman avoided eye contact to call her just the same: a crazy, highly imaginative person, who jumped to the most disconnected conclusions...

"Hajime won't tell; he's trustworthy."

"What makes you think-?"

"You mentioned how you, _you_ of all people, haven't had a drink for a long time when I contacted once and now I see you've put on a little weight; you seem tired but it's too early in the day and yet, it's as if you have gotten even prettier, despite the black circles. Plus, Damien won't leave your side; he's a witch with highly advanced healing powers, in case anything happens to you, I should guess. Thus, noting how your hands keep brushing over your stomach, I concluded you must be with child."

"..." Her eyes darted to the man of the company, glaring with absolute superiority. "Don't you dare repeat this to anyone else," she hissed and then turned to Tokio "but yes, I am." A sigh. "You got the information you needed, I'm concluding this meeting. Stay safe—no, Tokio, I'm fine; Damien is taking great care of me."

"So, don't you dare suggest it," he was heard from behind Ameiko again and now all three had to chuckle.

Thusly, the mirror went back to showing the two people's faces, slightly amused yet slightly amazed.

"That just happened."

"Qi Zhong help the poor bastard who put that child in her belly; he'll need it." She shook her head. "Now, let's talk business."

She sat on her settee, quite comfortable and informal for "business talk" as shye idly gestued for him to drag the chair from the desk next to her. Once he did, she took a deep breath. "You are one lucky bastard." There was disapproval in his face. "No, really; the only reason you're still alive—this." She showed herself with her finger, and her tattoo appeared, curling around it and her entire hand. "I told you this thing benefits the one who sees it, did't I; kept you alive long enough to come to me."

"Y...our tattoo kept me alive?"

"It definitely did." An eyebrow quirked knowingly. "While I was waiting for something to happen, the moment I saw you toss and turn, it lit up! Blinding light from beneath my tunic in the shape of the dragon and just like that, I knew why I was always sweating and feeling warm in the middle of the night despite the weather getting colder."

"So, basically, you saved my life. Again."

"Don't, this isn't..." she sighed. "This is what clerics are for," she nearly cried it, disappointed and defeated.

He couldn't help the smile at her antics. "And how did it help?"

"With the end of the nightmare, the end of your life was supposed to follow; though you had failed to ward off the evil at first, allowing it to circle your heart, the tattoo helped you expel it when you needed it the most, keeping the darkness from piercing you. Thankfully, I managed to prevent it from happening again by dispelling the curse—it was no walk in the park, but, yeah, not that challenging to me." She shrugged. "Once you've seen enough, your mind goes to certain things immediately."

"What type of curse was it?"

"Unique," came her swift answer "and tailor-made by the certain wizard to kill people in their sleep. Was she always nocturnal?"

"She worked nights." At her inquiring stare, he snorted. "You weren't that far off; she used to be a courtesan who dabbled in witchcraft. Now she's a wizard who happens to know how to seduce men."

"That's...never a good thing. But let's hope she's a blood mage; if so, that limits her powers some and we could be in less trouble than I thought, when facing Shishio."

"I have no idea what she is, other than a wizard with a grudge."

"Is it against you in particular, or the unit as a whole?"

"...me." Tokio shook her head, but he smirked, edging closer. "In case you haven't noticed, I am not easily won over by a pretty face;" her expression had been priceless, all blushes but unwavering "I exposed her to Hijikata and she was nearly killed. Now, she holds it against me."

The woman laughed. "That does sound like you."

Now he leaned on the settee, too, sitting at the edge her feet touched. "Don't tell me you never wondered why none of the other captains never went against my wishes when you first arrived?"

"The thought did cross my mind."

"When it comes to women, I am the most reliable judge of character." Her _oh, please_ , went unaddressed and he just kept talking. "And the Hanahomura incident was still fresh in our minds."

"I see...well, this concludes today's briefing; go tell Hijikata of what we learned, minus her highness is pregnant bit." She decided she sat around long enough, time to tend to her duties. "Also, inform him I shall ride out both to the village and the city near us. I need to finish up with my charges."

His lips quirked. "How thorough of you," alluding to the fact they were going to move out tomorrow and she wanted to leave no one unattended.

"Always am." She flashed him a knowing smirk. "If Hijikata asks you my opinion on the matter, tell him I said let's leave tomorrow." She moved to the door, he was still unmoving. "Bye for now, vice-commander in training. And when I see you tomorrow morning, better find out you slept well."

He folded his arms, confidence radiating off of him. "Is that a threat?"

She stood and watched him from underneath the threshold, cloth door over her head. "That is a warning: stay away from the red light district, Hajime."

"Or what?" A challenge. "You'll wear strange clothes and take over my tent _again_?"

She wanted to leave, she really did; disregard him completely and be on her merry way. But the absolutely calm but fierce way he was looking at her, in such a casual posture drove her mad. For some reason, she wanted to goad, tease him, elicit _any_ sort of reaction out of him.

Almost bouncing on her feet, she grabbed the fabric a little tighter. "I just might."

And with that, she left him behind. Saitou lingered, a smug look on his face...only to realise half a minute later, this was in fact, her tent; he should be going.

.

.

"I would never disagree with Hijikata's excellent decision-making, you know that," Toudou begun cautious, looking at all five riders around him "but what possessed him to uproot us so suddenly? I didn't even manage to say goodbye to Umi-chan!"

"It wasn't sudden, Toudou-san" Okita assured him through chuckles "he'd announced it half a week ago."

"As he did the rest of the times we ended up stayed," he countered, pouting.

"Umi-chan's heart will go on," Nagakura teased him "even without your goodbye."

"If it makes you feel better, I ran into her yesterday and bid your farewells for you," Tokio tried to comfort him, a wide smile on her face. She even went as far as to pity-pat his back, moving her horse near his.

"It's not the same..."

"Stop sulking, will you," Harada snapped "we have more serious things to concern ourselves with, such as the fact we are heading towards the _Ronin's camp_ where we're supposed to make camp _ourselves_?"

"The trading post of Seinaru Heikiko makes much more sense strategically, truth be told," Nagakura added thoughtfully "it's closer to the mountain, hence first line of defense. We have enough resources, too so we won't need too much from the nearby the city itself, but they will still be there in case replenishment is needed."

"Not to mention it's already fortified," Okita threw his two cents.

A second passed and everyone looked between themselves suspicious; Saitou was sorely tempted to join, but he knew he had to appear as indifferent as possible, what with his training and new position. Thankfully, it was Okita who spoke again. "It's almost as if...he wants them to lend us their strength."

Damn; that was exactly what Saitou feared. He hated hearing it spoken because it only solidified it now...but Tokio's weary sigh caught everyone's attention.

"Shishio is rumoured to have deep reaches in Seinaru Heikiko that have made certain the trading post is empty and abandoned at all times, for his occasional, personal use."

"What!?" Toudou.

"Impossible!" Harada was just as shocked.

"If that is true, we have quite the scandal on our hands," Nagakura lamented.

"One that we sadly need to deal with discretion," Tokio supplemented, a little annoyed by the fact herself.

"Are we to clean up Seinaru as well as the Kamifushi mountains?"

"From what I gather, dealing with the latter will help the former; her highness simply advised us against that place," Tokio shrugged "said nothing about taking direct action."

"Thus," Okita tried to sum it all up "if we are to face Shishio of the mountains **and** his lackeys in Seinaru, we need the Ronin's help."

"Precisely."

"This just got a hundred times more complicated," Toudou stated, defeated. "The Ronin are infamous for their dislike of any authority—hence them becoming ronin on the first place."

Saitou snorted. "Bet they've had more than a hard time dealing with Shishio's rising power and influence; bet they'll be as welcoming as their egos will allow."

"I have a sneaking suspicion her highness contacted them and promised them one or two things for their help; they won't pose a problem..." Her stare swept the men, only to fixate on the tallest, most stubborn captain, "so long as we pose no problems of our own."

Yes, he was difficult; he knew. Rolling his eyes, he managed a bored "we'll try."

 _Easier said than done._

They should have known this two-weeks trip to the Ronin's camp of theirs would end in the worst note possible, seeing their entire journey was riddled with misfortune and setbacks. In fact, it took an extra week, numbering three after all, as well as plenty of wild creatures and monsters attacking. One band of particularly nasty oni Tokio was certain they were affiliated with the fearsome evil man they were climbing to take out.

Who, Tokio, really worked up a sweat! Going from a simple healer to sub-unit Captain and head healer, she had at least ten more things she needed to do in each and every fight. Thankfully, she was the provident type of person and had instructed her men how to operate in her absence, thus she only had to give a few sparse commands before leaving them headless, to jump into the fray next to the ever-reckless Saitou, who cared little for the grief he was causing her.

Despite of it all, they made it to the Ronin's camp battered but whole. Their arrival wasn't the issue. Their receiving was.

Because none other than a short, bony and angular man led the party of welcome, with his wild mane of red hair in a ponytail at the back of his head. That pale lavender of his eyes grew darker than the sun allowed it upon seeing them, thoughts swirling, gears turning fast in his head.

At the same time, all seven men of importance of the unit, seemed to falter in their step, almost bringing their horses to a stop.

Tokio misinterpreted everything, not privy to the issue abruptly presented in front of her, and stopped her horse completely. The men followed her example. Then, she distinctly got off her trusted steed, catching the reins...and urged it forward. Apparently, she was under the impression the ronin stopped heading their way because they perceived this as some sort of offense, instead of simply encountering the Shinsengumi, a band of men they never thought they'd ever see again.

Still, her presence or her action urged the red-haired man forward, an unreadable calm emerging on his face. Hands in his sleeves, he headed straight for her.

Unsettled, the Shinsengumi men looked between themselves; Tokio was heading their way, unknowing, unaffected...and they seemed not to mind for the most part but that man...that red-haired man with the scar on his face...

Something kicked in Saitou's chest. Hitokiri be damned, he wouldn't let her go alone! Something about her confronting a party of ten men all on her own felt too wrong to put in words—he only nodded to Okita once, shot a look Hijikata's direction and he jumped off of his horse after her. One by one, all of the captains followed his example, even Hijikata did, save for Kondou. Even after they reached their cleric and until she spoke, they kept exchanging glances.

But then she did and they all turned to stare at the begrudgingly familiar face of an old enemy.

"Ronin of Minkai, I salute you."

A formal bow followed and Saitou's hand twitched to put her back straight; to think she lowered her head in front of these people...!

"My name is Takagi Tokio; my comrades and I are sent here by her Highness, our Empress Amatatsu Ameiko the second, of the Jade throne. Please allow us in your territory."

Then, the most peculiar thing happened: while his eyes were still scanning everyone – but mostly Saitou – and his face was just as unreadable, the short man bowed back, mirroring her kind smile. "I am Himura Kenshin, very pleased to meet you, emissary of her Majesty; we welcome you and your comrades into our camp."

Her entire face lit up and, like an accomplished child, she turned to the rest, as if to show them her achievement; she must have paid no attention at their terse smiles for she immediately turned back to Kenshin. "We are thankful! The trip has been long and rather eventful. Could you please direct us to a place large enough to set up our tents? Or would you rather we talked terms first?"

"The sun is setting as we speak, please set up camp while some light still holds." Finally, his eyes turned to the men, sharp as ever, but surprisingly nearly as threatening. "That is, if the Shinsengumi Captains behind you don't attack me first."

"Nonsense! What are-...?"

Oh shit; he was right. Her men were glaring at the short man before her, while the Ronin on Kenshin's side were glaring right back. What was going on...? "Is there" she drawled the words, studying everyone on both ends carefully "a history here I do not know about?"

"Too true, Tokio-san."

"Must have been a ronin a little too long, _Hitokiri Battousai,_ " Saitou's tone was laced with poison "to address an emissary of her Majesty so lightly."

"Must have been a Captain a little too long, Saitou Hajime," Kenshin retorted almost humorously "to think everyone must follow some sort of hierarchy."

"I am Kondou Isami, commander of this unit; you must remember my name, Himura Kenshin, yes?" The man nodded kindly to the man's strict tone. "Are you the commander of these men, too or is there someone else we should be speaking to?"

Kenshin smiled. "Ah, there is no such thing here! No titles or ranks to speak of. That is why we became ronin on the first place, didn't we?"

The men behind him agreed, making a big show of their displeasure of Kondou's tone.

"But even you, no matter how lawless you appear to be, have some semblance of order; otherwise you wouldn't have been able to drive away any threats to your...relative sovereignty," Hijikata intervened, trying to calm his commander down "we simply wish to speak to the man the rest of the warriors here turn to in a time of crisis or need for advice or help."

"Oh, I see! Then that would be me, indeed."

Why was he so cheerful? It was grating on everyone's nerves...but one's, who could be as cheerful and annoying as their former nemesis, the other short man, Okita Souji. "Then may I propose this, Kondou-sama, Hijikata-sama:" both nodded, morbidly curious "for as long as we'll be staying here, Tokio-chan shall be our go-between! She's neutral and sent by her highness anyway—but she also helped us before, so she shall protect our interests...without trampling the Ronin's of course, for that is her character."

"...that is a good proposal," Hijikata ascended and looked to their leader. Only once Kondou nodded did he formally agree. "So be it then; I accept."

"I would be more than glad to accommodate Tokio-san," Kenshin readily answered, too, and just like that, it was decided: Tokio was to be the cohesive agent of these two disparate factions. But there was one who didn't like this development at all, silently stewing next to the cleric, alternating between shooting glares at Okita and Himura.

"L, let's go set up camp, then; once we're finished, I shall come found you. I think there's no need for further introductions from our part, but if you'd agree to it, I would like to meet your warriors and anyone who you perceive as important for the existence of this camp."

The red-haired ronin gave her a warm but playful smile. "You keep calling it _camp_ , but I fear you don't fully grasp its size: come, let me show you."

He waved for everyone to follow him uphill. Due to the height of said green, grassy hill, all they could see was the expected smoke from fires. But as they found themselves at the edge, all looked on surprised.

" _This_ is the Ronin's camp," he happily quipped, hands still in the sleeves "aptly named as such, so she won't be besotted by more attacks than necessary."

A full-scale city, albeit a small one, sprawled in front of them, right at the foot of the hill. There was a stream of perfect blue, parting it right in the middle. The setting sun painted the entire picture in the colours of idealism and melancholy, giving the wooden structures that constituted the bases of their viable community an otherworldly feeling. They could see and hear the bustle of people from up there, too, a thriving little city in the middle of the fields.

Scratch that; the fields were to the sides and back, rice and vegetables planted all over.

"How incredible," Tokio spoke through a lopsided grin "you must be very proud."

"We do our best," Kenshin proudly declared, a serene smile etched on his face.

"Although this existed before Himura-san got here," one of the ronin began, middle-aged but wild-looking "our community took a life of its own because of him."

"Indeed," a beautiful, almost effeminate young man corroborated, black hair in a high ponytail "he gave us a breath of fresh air."

"Fresh air is hard to come by in the openness of the Osogen Grasslands, indeed," Saitou mocked the two people, as he bypassed them. And just as he'd reached the cleric she elbowed him in the gut for his comment, as well as the chuckles and snorts it earned from the men – not all theirs, to be honest – , making him roll his eyes.

She failed to notice Himura's sudden interest in her gesture.

"If you could, I'd rather we set up camp east, right outside of your city," Tokio turned to the former samurai "for proximity is important and I'd rather we stayed out of your hair as much as possible."

A young man, barely an adult but already built like a warrior, snorted. "We don't mind if you camp inside, even if you are the Shinsegumi." He was wearing western-like clothes, strangely, and despite his face, he was tall and imposing.

"Our tents are many and some are large; you don't have enough open space within your confines. But it truly is fine, we just need that patch on the right."

"As you wish," Kenshin consented, patting the hand of the young boy with the wild brown hair and immediately Tokio nodded to the captains, to get things ready.

"Thank you, Himura-san; we shall meet again in a few hours." Just like that, the ronin were dismissed. Instantly, she turned to the captains, all thunder and storm. "Do _not_ antagonise the ronin; we need their help. Also, warn the men of Himura-san. I have a feeling none will be pleased by his presence; and can please someone tell me of the story between you? He looks harmless but I am no idiot."

"He's killed some of our older captains, as well as many of our men;" Hijikata stepped forward, explaining the situation "he was opposed to the Regent, but us as well. There was a lot of chaos back then." He shook his head. "A faction used him to their benefit, taking advantage of his free-spirited attitude. He was and still is, an anarchist. We tried to arrest him many a time, resulting to aforementioned deaths. We really wanted to get him...but then one day, once the Regent fell, he disappeared." He shrugged. "Try as we might, we could never find him in any of his old places."

"So, this is where he went," Okita added in the end, a little cheery.

Tokio seemed confused. "He retired?"

"It seems so," Harada spoke honestly.

"But why?"

"Who cares?" Saitou glared at his retreating back. "Retired or not, once a hitokiri, always a hitokiri." The smack that came his way was expected. "I don't care how much you believe in second chances; I've had too many close calls because of that dwarf, I won't turn around and befriend him now. And I bet he feels the same."

"We are going to fight side by side with him and his men in the upcoming battle against Shishio." She spelled it out for him, as if speaking to a child. "We can't afford any more grudges." He looked away. "We have to trust him!"

"Look, if you tell me to put up with him, I'll put up with him; you tell me to cooperate, I'll cooperate. But just so we're clear, that won't make me trust, like or forgive him. He's still the Battousai."

She clicked her tongue. "Whatever this is, he seems willing to put it behind him. Just do the same."

"...for the time being, at least," Hijikata spoke in his stead and it was final. If the vice-commander implicated himself, the argument was over. "Now, let's do what we need to; then Tokio will talk with Himura and reach an understanding we are all happy with."

"I'm going with you," Saitou more warned, than offered and he turned to the rest. "I'm escorting her." He made it perfectly clear to all, dragging a laugh out of Okita in the process.

"Maybe leave your sword with us, Saitou-san."

"We'll be fine," Tokio placated them, a small smile playing on her lips "he knows what's best for him."

A groan and a begrudging nod later, they got themselves started. Per usual, Tokio was right about timetables and in one hour and a half, everything was set up, the men briefed and the fires going. Some minutes after the fires were lit, women and older children of all genders approached, bearing gifts of food. They took over the cauldrons and soon enough deliciously enticing smells flooded the Shinsengumi camp.

Just about then, Tokio knew it was time to go find Himura-san and talk business. She headed for the small city, fully prepared to ask around, but to her pleasant surprise, the red-haired man was waiting for them at the square. Saitou rolled his eyes, but silently followed the two smiling people to wherever the Battousai led them.

Traversing through half of their city, taking the bridge over the river – that was shallow enough to walk through, but why get themselves wet – they found themselves in a cluster of simpler but bigger houses. Himura stopped in front of one of them, not the biggest, and took off his shoes. "I'm back," he announced as he climbed the two steps.

"Welcome back," a man and a woman, a set of identical twins, saluted, standing on either side of the shoji door. The man drew it open; two set of coal eyes bore holes in their guests as they too took off their shoes and ascended the steps.

"Don't look so severe," Himura asked kindly "they are here to help."

The inside was just as simple as the outside: a small hall to leave one's weapons and a corridor that led to four different doors. And a little on the left, there was a large room. "Please follow me," Himura spoke and led them forward; they passed by all the doors and found themselves in front of the last one, which he drew open.

"Sagara-san, we are here, don't be too alarmed."

They saw the man Himura addressed only after they entered the square, mostly bare room, standing over a desk, pouring over a map he had in his hands. He seemed to be in a heated internal debate whether this map or another was the best choice for his purpose. His clothes were the same odd, western style the tall kid from before wore, with fitted black pants, a snuggly black shirt and a red long vest made out of leather or another hard material. He didn't look up immediately, too immersed in his thoughts.

Saitou greatly disapproved of his attire, as well as the short hair style this man sported, too short for a Minkaian indeed.

"Ah, the Empress's emissary! How..." Upon looking up, two things happened: his features altered by surprise of the pleasant kind and then he proceeded to put his map down. "How delightful," he finished, standing to his full height. With two steps, he was in front of Tokio, bowing respectfully. "I have never met a female emissary before." His smirk became wider. "My name is Sagara Souzou, a pleasure to meet you."

Saitou raised an eyebrow; Tokio tried not to stiffen...too much.

"I am Takagi Tokio and this is Saitou Hajime, a captain of the unit. Will there be anyone else joining us?" After both nodded no, she seemed pleased. "Then let's get right down to business. We are sent by her Highness, in an effort to help each other. Shishio has been growing too large too quickly; the palace cannot ignore him anymore." Even if they had said no, they watched the kid from before enter the room. Tokio continued, a little perplexed. "You, who have faced him all this time, are the perfect people to inform us of his tactics; we, with our experience in battling armies of this magnitude, are the perfect people to lead the expedition against him."

Sagara snorted, but it was the young brown-haired boy that spoke. "Now that the threat looms too great, you remember us? Is her highness so afraid of losing her throne?"

"Her highness rules by god-given right. She has already received Shizuru's blessing, Shishio can't change that," Saitou snapped, unable to hold himself back "she's dealing with this is because she must. That's what good rulers do, kid, strike down their enemies."

"I'm not a kid!"

"Be quiet for a moment Sano; and what will we gain by such an alliance?" the question readily slipped off Sagara's tongue.

Tokio took the lead. "Your formal freedom, as well as a right to call this city the head city of a new, ninth province: the _Ronin province_." She produced a document from her bad of holding and rolled the scroll open for the two men to see. "All is written in extreme detail on here. Take it and read it; if it finds you agreeable, we have a deal."

Saitou disapproved, if his expression was any indication; also, this was he first time he heard any of this. Still, he had hoped they'd refuse, those bastards.

"And what will the deal contain?"

"For as long as we're here, fighting against Shishio, you shall provide us with all the help we need, be it information or manpower. She shall abide by your rules, of course, we are guests in your house, and we should try to stay out of your way for the day to day activities, unless asked to engage. How does that sound?"

"You must promise to allow us in on the strategy meetings."

Tokio looked at Saitou; he nodded, begrudgingly. "Three of you may join us."

"Then, give us a moment to read this."

Ten minutes later, the two men in front of them were smiling like idiots; Sano was not allowed to read yet and he was pouting in a corner. Still, it was safe to assume their answer would be "we have a deal!"

Tokio mirrored their enthusiasm in a warm smile. "I am delighted! Please, keep that document safe; her majesty will personally sign it, once Shishio is defeated." They both nodded. "And now, if you don't find it presumptuous of me, I would love to help you. I am a cleric, you see, and I barely used any of my skills today, so I'd love to take a look at your sick and wounded."

" _Tokio_..." His low, near-growl served its purpose and Souzou stopped dead in his tracks, just as he was about to reach for her.

"Hajime," she met him evenly.

A silent but intense staring contest, neither side willing to take that necessary step back, leaving the room suddenly full of tension. The three strangers soaked up the vibes and took a defensive step back themselves, hands raised in a peaceful manner, trying to sooth any ruffled feathers. And just as Himura opened his mouth to relieve Tokio of her offer, knowing full well how stubborn the certain man was, Saitou sighed. Kenshin openly stared as Saitou crossed his hands, less irritable than ten seconds ago, rolling his eyes.

 _Do what you want_ , his posture betrayed "but you're not getting rid of me."

A giggle. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"If that is the case," Kenshin started then, a shy smile emerging "I believe you won't mind I asked my wife to join us here, just before I came to get you."

"Wife...are you _married_?" The woman seemed shocked. "But...you're so young!"

Himura chuckled good-naturedly. "Have been, for the past two years; I am eighteen years of age, Tokio-san."

Saitou's eye twitched. "What did I tell you about calling her that?"

They ignored Saitou. "You married at sixteen? Dear Qi Zhong..."

" _I_ married at sixteen," Saitou retorted then, a little annoyed "what's wrong with that? Sixteen you're already an adult."

"Yes, but for barely a year! How can you know—...?" She shook her head. "So odd, honestly. And you, I understan," she went on with renewed vigour, pocking Saitou's chest "you're the most traditional man in the face of the planet! You?" She turned to Himura. "You are supposed to be against tradition and meaningless rules and formality."

"I fell in love." It was spoken so simply, it made her stop. But then it was Kenshin's turn to be shocked, staring at Saitou. "And _you're_ married!?"

"Was; she's dead."

"Oh. Sorry."

He rolled his eyes. "It's been a long time, don't be."

"She's coming!" Sano exclaimed then, brown eyes looking behind the two newcomers.

"Be nice you lot," Souzou advised "she's pregnant."

Immediately, Saitou lowered his head in a respectful manner and made way for the Battousai to go fetch her, which he did instantly. Some moments later, the couple walked through the door, the stupidest smile on the short man's face. The other two turned around to face them.

Tokio froze completely at the sight of her; the other woman seemed a little rigid, too—though she was very serious and rigid anyway.

"This is my lovely wife," he announced, pointing to the taller, black-haired woman on his arm, her white kimono a little wrinkled where her belly was protruding. He walked her inside and got her in front of the desk. "My kind, sweet—"

" _Tomo-chan,_ " Tokio uttered breathless, but every person in the room caught it, causing a new wave of surprise – and maybe suspicion – in the men. "Tomo-chan," she repeated, just as mystified as before, but firmer. Slowly but certainly, Tokio reached out to her. "Tomo-chan...!"

And just like that, the wife let go of her husband and quietly, but with purpose, took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Tokio firmly. "Tokio-sama...!"

It should have been awkward; the wife was taller than Tokio but she still hugged the woman's middle, burring her head in the crook of her neck. And yet, it wasn't, they could tell; Tomo-chan was crying with abandon but dignity, as no sound other than speaking that name escaped her, while Tokio was affectionately patting her head, caressing the hair wrapped up in a low ponytail.

"You...know each other," Sano lamely commented after a long moment; right around there, Tomo-chan let go of the cleric, a small smile playing on her lips. That display seemed to take Kenshin by surprise and caused him to look at Tokio anew, as if she was some amazing creature.

"Tokio-sama and I were raised together at the temple; we know each other since we were small children." That was news to everyone. "Tokio-sama left when she turned fourteen; I followed a year later, when I too reached that age."

"You did tell me of your sempai at the temple; so this is her." Kenshin bowed again to Tokio. "How fortunate you managed to see each other again."

Tokio's eyes became teasing then and a little scolding ."Especially since I was under the impression I would never see her again." A breath and two sets of guilty eyes later, Tokio explained "Tomoe faked her death two years ago...all so she could marry a man her father would not approve of, from what I gather."

Tomoe nodded shyly. Tokio shook her head amused, both at the couple's shame and the affront on Saitou's face. "And to think I tried bringing you back to life...what about your poor brother though? He must have been devestated."

"Oh, Enishi is here, with me," she spoke and Saitou realised that soft whisper must have been her standard volume, or she was still too emotional. "In fact I have asked him to follow me, to meet the emissary..."

The cleric laughed unreserved, her head thrown back. "You are about to meet the world's most attached little brother! He used to resent me, back at the temple, for stealing his sister's time. To think he followed you here."

"There was no stopping him," Kenshin said in a cryptic tone.

"You idiot," Tokio snapped then, a little exasperated "why didn't you say anything? I mourned for you!"

"Forgive me, Tokio-sama."

"Idiot," her insult was softer this once "I was so upset with myself, too...idiot..."

A light kiss on the top of her head followed and Saitou could swear he saw Tokio wiping away something resembling moisture. "I am _so_ happy you are alive and well...and pregnant." Her smile turned watery and they were surprised again to see Tomoe reflecting her. "I will take great care of you, I promise."

"Thank you, Tokio-sama."

"Stop calling me that!" she exclaimed between chuckles and tears. "Tokio is more than enough."

"...Tokio-san?"

A new voice was heard at the threshold and they all turned to see a tall, muscular young man, no older than sixteen, with thick black hair, stand there, disbelieving. His bright blue eyes had changed two shades in the span of three seconds and he still wouldn't move a muscle.

"Enishi!" the woman smiled widely at him and turned to her companion. "This is him, Tomo-chan's bro-...ther."

Enishi covered the distance in the blink of an eye; so fast did he move, Saitou reached for his sword by force of habit! But when nothing other than him hugging Tokio happened, Saitou relented...though never let go. Even if Tokio was patting his back, too, smothered by the man's very tight embrace. "I am happy to see you again, too," she cooed and the man only tightened his hold. "It's been such a long time..."

When Enishi would not let her go though, Saitou felt his temper rising. Sensitive to the subtle changes of mood around him, Kenshin moved to untangle his brother in law from his old friend. When the boy growled, Saitou almost unsheathed. Tokio caught the movement and chuckled.

"What is it with you, siblings? Both grew so much taller than me...!" She untangled herself and measured their heights. "Look at this; a whole head taller! Your sister I accept, but you barely reached my middle back then."

"I am a man, now, Tokio-san," he stated in an incomprehensible tone "not the small boy you once knew."

"But you're still running after your sister," she commented shrewdly.

"If only she listened to you more and stayed away from men," Enishi turned to glare at Kenshin momentarily "I wouldn't have to."

Souzou couldn't help the smirk. "You warned your friend away from men? But why? We are many uses and merits..." He leaned closer, trying to be seductive; Saitou's hilt touched his cheek and shoulder, pushing him back. Sano tried not to laugh.

"I did no such thing; I simply told her that if she had something she really wanted to do, to ignore men; men are distractions."

"If only she listened." Enishi lamented once more.

"So, you are still unwed?" Sano asked offhandedly.

"Yes," the red on her cheeks was bold but her attitude neutral "but that is irrelevant."

"No, it isn't," Enishi complained. "You are unwed, thus able to carry out these important missions for her highness." _This is what you gave up on_ , his glare told his sister. "But she ran away here and I had to follow her in the middle of nowhere."

"Why?" Saitou spoke for the first time, incredulous.

"To keep her safe of course."

Saitou seemed not to get it. "But she's married."

Enishi didn't appreciate his intervention. "So?"

"So, her husband takes care of her now. They are **married** ," he repeated, as if he was a toddler.

" _Don't go there._.." Souzou tried to stop the conversation from happening but Sano kept nodding for him to go on.

"But I am her brother."

"Your duty to her ended once she got married. Now, you may visit her once or twice a month, but not look after her. That's her husband's duty."

"Not every family is the same," Enishi bit out.

"Are you defending Kenshin?"

Souzou was shocked by the very notion he proposed; Saitou grew sour too. "That's just how it is. Even Battousai has to be good for something if he has managed to convince a woman to fake her own death and follow him to the middle of nowhere, anyway."

"Stay out of my business," Enishi warned him with no amount of love in his voice.

"I don't care about your business; but when I hear something ridiculous, I have to make note of it."

"Alright, that's enough from the both of you. Enishi, you can't fault him for having an opinion different to yours; and you. Don't butt in other people's family issues."

"I don't see Himura complaining though."

Sano laughed; Kenshin turned bright red from the sudden attention. "E, enough is enough, ha ha, let's, let's just go and help Tokio-san find the wounded...!"

" _I_ am wounded," Enishi reminded casually, pointing at a gauze circling his gut "she can start with me."

" _Kid_ ," Saitou really couldn't put up with him "if you don't wanna **add** to that wound, I suggest you keep your trap shut, your hands to yourself and your eyes on the ground." As if to cement his position, he put his hand on Tokio's middle and pushed her forward and out of the room. "Let's go now or I'm calling it off entirely."

"We're going, we're going!" Kenshin rushed to reassure him and shot a pleading look at his wife, as the Shinsengumi started walking.

"Be nice, Enishi; these people are here to rid us of the Shishio faction."

Enishi snorted. "I'll believe that only when I see it."

Saitou's head snapped back. " _ **Kid**_ —"

"This way, please," Souzou broke it off, stepping between the two. Effectively distracting them by taking the lead, he kept everyone quiet by playing the tour guide.

It was late when Tokio finished tending to their sick and wounded, but not too late; in fact, it was just the perfect time for a drink, as Enishi reminded the moment she was done casting her last spell. Suddenly, his willingness to be the last one made much more sense and Saitou nearly growled.

"My sister and I would love to catch up with our childhood friend," Enishi triumphed over his perfect excuse "and no outsiders are allowed."

Damn it, it really was a perfect excuse. "Your sister's pregnant."

"She won't consume any alcohol, we will."

"I'm down," Sano mused.

"Tokio isn't allowed in your city without me," Saitou snubbed "unit's orders."

"Screw your unit."

"Enishi," Tokio stepped in, just in time to catch Saitou from physically attacking him "I would love to catch up, too but I am quite tired tonight; maybe tomorrow, or another day, when my comrades will have grown accustomed to your presence. Don't forget, _we_ are the ones in a foreign place."

"...as you wish, Tokio-san."

A wide smile later, she hugged Tomoe and put a hand on her belly. "This will be one healthy child."

"Thank you, Tokio-sama."

"In light of these events, I will ask her highness if she can do anything about your status, without damaging your marriage. Goodnight for now."

The moment they were out of earshot and eyesight, Saitou glared at her general direction. "Tell that kid to keep his hands to himself and calm down; if I see him trying to invade your personal space once more, I'll stab him." She giggled in her hand. "I'm not joking."

"My, oh my, how possessive of you; and to think we only slept together once so far."

Something ridiculous happened; all good sense in him went out the window and instead of chiding her for saying something so highly inappropriate, instead, he only smirked and angled his head to look at her better, memories of that morning as fresh as ever. "So far? Are you planning to make a habit out of it—should I be worried?"

" _Worried_?" She took faux-offense. "Is the prospect of me helping you sleep so disconcerting or was there something else on your mind?"

Maybe it was because of that kid that kept getting his paws all over her, or the fact Souzou was looking at her like she was a dessert and he had the sweetest tooth in the world, but suddenly he didn't feel like editing himself.

The smirk only widened, eye catching her with the edge. "Like what?"

"How would I know?" She challenged, matching him tit for tat. " _You_ were the one who spoke of euphemisms last time..."

It should be impossible to feel that much attraction to one person, or at least illegal; that stir in his gut foretold of implications, urging him in all the wrong – but right – directions.

He _was_ possessive, she was right; he was also easy to feel jealous, since he couldn't properly express his intentions for her—or had them sorted out in his head on the first place, but the facts remained. All he wanted to do was touch her, too. His fingers itched for contact in fact and having her so close, imply all sorts of things to his face, made it none the easier.

"And you want me to speak of them again, is that why you mentioned it?"

Oh no; something must have showed in his face.

He found no other reason she would come to a slow stop with no warning, and peer at him so. He stopped next to her, faking composure. "Well?" He really hoped she wouldn't call his bluff, but he couldn't help himself when she simply kept studying him, with that enigmatic look on her face.

"No, I don't want you to speak of them again," she drawled, detached "for I dislike men who are all talk but no action..."

He blinked, trying to process what was said, but in the span of that short time, she had already turned away.

But wait. Did she just...?

His hand shot out and grabbed hers instinctively. He couldn't help that stupid smirk showing up on its own. "Tokio, do you know what you're saying?"

As if something shifted, or more accurately, was put back into place, her expression became her usual one, shrugging. "My opinion about people who run their mouths without any follow-up?"

"But I was-"

"No, forgive me; you aren't like that. I just...stated an opinion." Her cheeks tainted with red, that unmistakable I-bit-more-than-I-can-chew hue. "An, um, unrelated opinion."

"Didn't sound too unrelated," he goaded with seriousness and a wider smirk "not from where I'm standing."

"Which is a little close," she looked down, suddenly bashful "if you don't mind taking a step back..."

"You are **not** fair." His voice was coarse, low, but most importantly, _too close_. "You can't say that and expect me to let you walk away so easily."

"Then forget I said it."

"That's not fair either," he remarked and he didn't know what he was feeling in that moment, only that it was overwhelming. He even sounded like a petulant child, demanding what was his. Her. She _should_ be his.

Almost breathless, she asked "what is fair then? Tell me and I shall oblige."

Many thoughts went through his head in that moment, not a single one appropriate to be uttered out in the open. His chest heaved, desire too potent. But he shouldn't, he couldn't; if he gave voice to them now, it would be catastrophic.

So, he said nothing.

Sensing her eminent victory, she cracked a smile. "We can't stand here forever, Hajime..."

"Hn," he acknowledged "so we can't."

Her smile became bigger. "Then let us _move_?"

A pause. "Let's."

Without another word, she turned back to their path...and he moved right alongside her. It took him an entire minute to realise he was still holding onto her; his hand had left hers in favour of her middle, just as he'd done to warn that infuriating kid away.

He thought up a quick prayer then because, _good Shizuru_ , this woman would be his undoing.

* * *

 **A/N:** So sorry for the yet unfinished story but, oh well, I wanted to post something, I felt I have been inactive for far too long. And this stops in a nice place, I think, yes? Cute, little, sexy confrontation. Heeeeeeh, no regrets. I love you, stay tuned. Please, leave a review on your way out, my dears.

Kisses,  
FAI~!


	11. The Priestess and the Grump, Part six

**A/N:** Hey hey hey! How are you lovely people?

Ugh, I'm trying to finish this story but it keeps getting bigger. I look at that document and all I can think of is "am I a joke to you? Why can't you just be finished?" I'm always saying "one more chapter" you'll stop believing me! But I swear, one more chapter left. JUST THE ONE. I just want to do justice to Shishio's fight that's all, coz basically it's all that's left. That and a couple of scenes later to tie everything in a pretty little bow. Sorry, not too sorry.

That being said, thank you all you lovely people who keep supporting me and my fancies, it means the world. Love you so much. Hope you enjoy this next to last chapter of this AU. And, to show you how most definitely I will be starting a new one, how about you tell me what you prefer next:

1) Harry Potter AU  
2) Doctor - Patient AU  
3) Hopeless one-sided love AU

Please let me know! Now, on with the story! _Waring: no beta or spellcheck._

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

"You called us here for this?"

Saitou almost threw the piece of paper in Enishi's snarling face, standing opposite him in the same room as yesterday night. Himura was trying his best to calm them down, hands raised flat in front of him, gesturing for peace.

Okita, who all but forced them to take him with, was highly amused and contented himself to watching. Everyone liked the short Shinsengumi captain, so cheerful and easy going as he was, so none complained at his arrival.

Sano tried not to smile, too; he loved antagonising Enishi and Saitou was doing _only_ that. Souzou on the other hand, his sensei, sighed, all but exhausted by their constant bickering, following the mentality of a weary Tokio.

"We thought maybe you knew of any significance it might have," Kenshin explained.

"This is just a folk song," Okita remarked, a chuckle escaping him. "A new one, granted" he admitted "written _after_ her highness returned to the throne, but a folk song nonetheless."

"Can I finally read it then?" Tokio demanded; Saitou obliged.

"This is the first time Shishio ever writes anything like this, though," Enishi barked at the tallest man in the room.

"Indeed; he's sent us threats a million times, his dogmas, some of the reports he stole from the Empress's men even but this...this is a first," Souzou backed him up. "Maybe it has to do with you; your arrival is the only thing that's different."

"Then why didn't he send it to us? We're right next to you." Okita countered.

Honestly, he hadn't cared for this argument, but watching Saitou chew Enishi out was worth it.

"Beats me...!"

"What am I reading exactly?"

All this time, no one had paid attention to the cleric, who was progressively intensifying her focus. Saitou became suspicious. "A new folk song."

She became restless. "When was this penned?"

"Two years ago," Kenshin informed, cautiously "with the fall of the Jade Regent."

She remained silent; the men exchanged looks. They weren't stupid, Enishi included, no matter what Saitou claimed; they could all tell this had something to do with her, or at least only she understood its significance, if she puffed up like that.

"Is this the first you hear of this, Tokio-chan?" She nodded yes, still reading. "It's very well known," he continued "I wonder how you didn't come across it while in the capital."

"...long story."

Short actually; minuscule: _I was never in the capital, I just pretended to be_ ; but that would lead to other questions so she refrained.

"Who wrote it?"

"...a foreigner."

They all watched as Tokio had to take a moment out of her life just to stand there and knead her forehead. "Dare I venture a guess it's called The Ivory Lady?"

"Yes," Saitou, was obvious from his tone, expected an answer of his own to all of her questions "that's how people call it."

"Did you figure it out, Tokio-chan?"

"May I inquire whether the end of the folk song is supposed to be as such:

Thus ends the tail  
of the Ivory Lady,  
head mounted on a spike,  
awaiting in Purgatory."

Everyone stared shocked; Saitou grabbed it right out of her hands without warning, skimming over it again. "She's right; that's how it ends."

"Shishio has a twisted sense of humour," Souzou's disgust evident in the souring of his face.

"Thus ends the tail  
of the Ivory Lady,  
in the pages of history,  
her feats forever unfading, is how it normally ends." Kenshin informed, head shaking. "How could we have all missed it?"

"The rest of it is the same; that's why," Saitou sounded very bitter by the fact though "he played with our expectations."

"But what does he hope to accomplish by sending us this? Does he think the Ivory Lady symbolizes your unit and his subversion of the end how he'll annihilate you?"

Tokio's smile had returned by their antics and confusion. "No, no, no; you have it all wrong. Shishio is...he is very perceptive. He figured out what all of you still haven't and wants to flaunt it, as well as scare us."

"How can you be in such a good mood about this?" Saitou protested.

"And what is it that we missed?" Enishi added.

"The message is much plainer than you give it credit for: all the man said is, he wants to see the Ivory Lady's head mounted on a spike."

The immediate clicking of everyone's tongue came, just as expected but she only smiled wider. "The Ivory Lady is a symbol, no one knows who she is," Kenshin wisely clarified.

"Shishio does," she shot back, highly entertained by their struggle.

"He can't," Souzou dismissed her.

"It isn't completely impossible," Sano was the only one on her side "the legend of the Ivory Lady must have started somewhere."

"Precisely!" She patted Sano on the back. "He knows; and I do, too."

"But you just said you've never heard of the song before." Saitou's _are you kidding me_ , was implied.

She actually laughed now, short but boisterous. "You really don't get it, do you?" She gave all a chance to speak or maybe guess, but when none did, simply stared at her to go on, she only laughed louder. Sano seemed to get it, but not quite; shaking her head she looked at them for a short amount of time.

And then said: " _I_ am the Ivory Lady."

Suddenly, all present seemed incapable of processing anything.

"The bard who composed this wonderful piece of literature but dreadful account of real events, is none other than Stewart Locke," ah, finally recognition shone in their eyes "one of my old party-members, who had decided to follow me when I returned; he left half a year after the throne was reclaimed. And the git never told me he wrote any of this...but I knew it's him because he always called me Ivory Lady; said it was because of my skin in contrast with the armor."

" _Molded in the East,  
forged in the West...of course_..." Okita caught on fast, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, as he recited the first two verses of the song. "Referring to your time spent in Avistan."

She nodded proudly.

"You are a woman of legend, Tokio-san..." Kenshin bowed his head to her as he finished his sentence.

"Tokio-san was always destined for greatness!" Enishi lauded exuberant.

"But if she's the Ivory Lady and the letter refers to her," Sano started, worried yet experiencing more clarity than ever "doesn't that mean Shishio wants to mount her head on a spike?"

The hurt, annoyed and affronted looks shot his way at his words or the lack of any tact to speak of were plenty. It was only her, in fact, who found it in her to laugh softly and pat his shoulder. Enishi twitched.

"Why do you laugh? He may be uncouth," Enishi accused Sano "but he's right."

"So?"

"He wants you dead" Enishi started losing his temper "and you'll be right there, an easy target!"

"Shi-chan," she used his old nickname for the first time; it wounded his pride a bit, but he could tell that was what she was aiming for "he wants us all dead. This is a simple intimidation tactic...that I am sad to see is working."

"But you're a woman," Souzou immediately stepped in "how could he target you so openly? So ridiculous, so...evil!"

"Maybe he only did it to rile you, ever thought of that?"

"I must say, knowing he focuses on you, I can't I approve of you going out there," Kenshin agreed "for no other reason than I know the way his mind works."

"Tokio-chan, maybe you should stick strictly to healing in the upcoming battle," Okita advised, anguish on his face as hidden as possible.

"Oh, not you, too!"

"She's right," Saitou's low, steady voice was heard "we're crippled without her."

"But, Saitou-san—"

"Saitou!"

"Hajime-san—"

"You asshole!"

Everyone had the same objection to make, in varying degrees of severity – Enishi even went as far as grabbing his collar at the front – but he was unaffected.

"Last I checked, Okita," he never even addressed the kid, just twisted the offending hand "she could take care of herself. In fact, she can take care of all of us." His eyes slid to her, to see her expression proud and satisfied. "Maybe Shishio intends for her to be at the back and this is his way to get her there; maybe he just hates her; maybe he only wants to unsettle us. No matter what, we can't just scare away; we have to trust in ourselves...and our allies."

That last part, he all but mumbled, shooting a very dark look towards Kenshin, as if daring him to ask him to repeat it. He didn't, but he had no need; that poorly concealed smile on his face was enough proof he heard him, loud and clear.

"Shishio is but one man," Tokio supported him "and one man can easily be defeated; what makes him dangerous is his army. There's strength in numbers. Let's make sure we are the same."

"Tokio-san, I know you've always been more gifted than the average person, cleric even, but this is entirely different," Enishi begged her, and those who seemed to be swayed by Saitou's words, to see reason. "Ivory Lady or not, you're only human!"

" _Kid_ ," Enishi shook with anger at being called that "she endured things that would kill ten of you; give her some credit."

"I am not staying back. In fact, in this battle, I will join the fray myself."

"You will be fighting, Tokio-chan?" She nodded; he smirked. "Oooooh, is the song true? Do you keep earthquakes in your band?"

Covering her mouth, she laughed. "No one can carry earthquakes, Okita-san..."

"Right, what am I saying?"

Then she looked at the lot of them. "If that is all on this matter, I suggest we go on other, more pressing ones: such as when do you think we should ride against him; formations; the situation with Seinaru."

"Truth be told, we discuss military plans in the evenings; we need the mornings for our city."

Saitou braced himself. "So you're telling us you brought us here, took us out of our training and briefings, for a simple piece of paper, without being fully prepared to discuss strategies once this was over?"

Kenshin nodded morosely; Saitou took a very deep, calming breath. He turned to Tokio. "Can I attack him now?"

Okita's laughter put everyone at ease, realising he was only joking...or at least, half of him was.

"You may not," she prohibited it "but I should like to take a walk about the city."

"No, Tokio-chan," Okita lamented "I promised to train with Harada-san this morning; move it to another day."

"How about I see the city today and guide you tomorrow?"

"I'd be delighted to show you—"

"Why would she want _you_ to show her around?" Enishi stopped Souzou's proposal dead in its tracks. "She intends to meet with sister later, so I should be the natural choice."

"Forgive me, but I'd rather no one showed me around; I am capable enough to find my way, I think. I'll tend to your sister once I'm finished, yes?"

And just like that, she left.

The moment she was gone behind the door, all eyes turned to Saitou, quite unforgivingly. "If anything happens to her, it's your fault," Enishi barked at him.

"Of course; after all, a warrior riding out to war being injured is _such_ an oddity," his sarcasm made Enishi's skin crawl "how could it not be my fault?" He shook his head. "And here I thought you put it behind you. Anyway, Okita, you go back to camp;" the man nodded "I'll follow Tokio."

"But she said she didn't need—!"

Kenshin took hold of his brother-in-law, stopping him from going after them; offended, Enishi attacked him, but Kenshin simply dodged, sighing. "Calm down, Enishi."

"Let go of me, damn it!"

"Stop being a baby, sister-complex-kun," Sano mocked him, actually poking his stomach, just to mess with him.

"She wants to go alone," Souzou tried to calm him, smacking Sano on the head for goading him. "And the stipulations say he must escort her, so..."

He relaxed enough for Kenshin to risk letting go; Enishi withdrew his hand a little too indelicately. "But I don't get Saitou, sometimes. I thought he wouldn't want her in unnecessary danger, the way he acts around her."

"Well," Okita started thoughtful "it has to do with the fact he was the first one to underestimate her abilities when she came to the unit; she humbled him and he isn't going to forget it any time soon." A smile graced his lips, one they couldn't know its reason. "He trusts her though and that is plenty for me;." He shrugged. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a certain Harada to beat."

.

"Will you wait," he called out, amused "or are you running away?"

She stopped her retreat to allow him to catch up. "Why would I do that?"

"Maybe all that talk about not being scared was just an act."

She smacked his arm, falling into step with him; he set a leisure pace which she was happy to follow. A lull of silence followed, tempered down by the sound of their feet tapping on the wooden floors. Then they reached the steps; descending them one after another, they slipped their shoes on, and then took the very long way of exploring the city.

"Thank you, Hajime," she said after some time. She sounded very appreciative and he couldn't help the small confidence boost. "That meant a lot to me."

He nodded. "That doesn't mean I'm not worried." She stopped to look at him; he did the same. "I know you can handle it, but I detest the fact he's put a target on your back."

"I understand that sentiment," she was very careful with her words and her body language "and to know you supported me anyway is even more important to me. Thank you, again." She actually bowed. "We've...come a long way."

 _We?_ "The unit you mean? Yeah, we grew even stron..."

Her soft chuckle forced him to leave his sentence unfinished. "No, Hajime, you and I. We've come a really long way." She gave him a moment to let it sink in. "I like it better like this."

He couldn't help the smirk. "And what _is_ this?" She seemed a little confused. "How would you call it? Camaraderie; friendship; or something else entirely?"

A hitched breath; rosy cheeks and a modest smile. "Yes," was all she said, expression unreadable.

"To all?" he teased. "Don't you have to decide?"

"Yes," she repeated and now had to try very hard not to give away her thoughts.

"But you won't tell me yet," he concluded.

Her smile grew.

"Yes."

They both resigned to a self-depreciating chuckle.

Saitou took a deep breath. "Once this is over and Shishio is defeated, you and I are going to have a conversation." She sobered. "A serious, honest and long conversation." She nodded once, fully aware of what that entailed. "Till then, don't die, okay? I'd hate to have to use that orb thing you gave me."

"I promise."

She climbed on her tip toes and without warning planted a chaste, fleeting kiss somewhere on his jawline. It took him by surprise, but her smile was accepting. He sighed. "See? This is what I'm talking about. A long, long conversation."

"Anything you want."

Not much was said after that, they contented themselves to a soothing silence, one that gave them the opportunity to put their thoughts in order. It wouldn't be a big leap for him to conclude that Tokio did, in fact, harbour some feelings for him, as he'd never dared to hope before. Her teases and interest in him weren't the same brand as in Toudou or even Okita, whom she'd been far closer to, this entire journey. Her behaviour last night gave him the impression he had a chance, too.

At the same time, the news of this morning were a proper smack in the face. To think she was a person of legend; to think Shishio put it together so easily; and to think his sights, for whatever reason, held her with such intense focus, it was disconcerting. He honestly hoped he wasn't positioned anywhere near her—he wouldn't be able to take her eyes off of her and that was all but suicide, on the battlefield.

At the same time, he didn't dare disturb their status-quo before they faced off with their barbaric enemy. No matter the outcome of their fight, which she seemed to be convinced would be in their favour, he couldn't confront her if their foe wasn't defeated.

The good thing was, he held this stance with conviction and didn't bother himself with those thoughts too much, which gave him ample time to enjoy their walk about the ronins' city at her side. At first, Tokio appeared a little tormented with her own thoughts, but she easily relaxed, the more they walked and saw what the place had to offer.

In Saitou's opinion, the best thing this city had to offer was their gardens: some corralled and embellished with wooden fences and plaques, or other small structures to tell one section of flowers from the other; others completely open, a natural garden of plain, tall green grass and the occasional tree to relax under. Some held low grass and that was where the warriors of this city, those who trained in sword or bow, would practice their skill.

Tokio, on the other hand, appreciated the river most of all, and the life it offered to its residents. The part closest to the entrance of the city, was laid with beautiful rock and tile, all hand-crafted, leading to and away from bridges, extending for a long way. It served as a sight for visitors, or at least it would, if anyone knew of this place, for the long road alongside the riverbank was paved and well maintained, while sakura trees surrounded it on both sides. This time of year the blossoms had all fallen, but even so, it was still beautiful. Then came the part close to the square, brimming with local vendors who sold their stuff at small booths, like an everlasting river festival. Citizens came and went, hurrying mothers and fathers or idle teenagers; they all held something in their hands, food or trinket, or simply browsed.

 _Prosperous town indeed_ , she mused, and she couldn't help the smile that touched her lips.

The last part was the most important, the one close to the residential area. Although it didn't stop there, they had managed to create something closely resembling a riverbed, where women and men gathered to wash their clothes, draw water for a bath or even swim in it, despite the chill of the weather.

As for the romantics, small boats went up and down the river, offering them a beautiful passage, or an idyllic view for the perfect date.

"Makes you long for that city of yours, doesn't it?"

His question pulled her out of her thoughts instantly, mostly because she felt she heard her thoughts spoken aloud; her eyes raised to his, a fragile hope of understanding reflected in their depths. His smile was crooked. "Not too hard to guess what you might be thinking as you look at strangers go about their daily lives so wistfully."

She had to chuckle at that. "It shows, huh?"

"Only because I _know_ ; if I didn't, I'd just guess you really wanted to ride one of those boats." Now she had to laugh. Still, Saitou gave her no chance to speak. "But the Kamifushi mountains aren't the same: no grasslands or greenery; only slopes, cliffs and dells." Their eyes met, for a long moment. "It wouldn't be the same as this, but there are advantages in a mountain city."

"Such as?" she asked meaningfully, knowing what he was trying to do.

"Mountains have a beauty of their own; and a mountain city it's easier to maintain. Plus, you can hide and fortify much easier."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Not to mention, trade will be your main source of income thus you'll be able to preserve ties to the general community and receive news from the outside world."

She said nothing, simply smiled. He was making excellent points, but the truth of the matter was, her sights were simply too focused on exactly what she wanted, she was that particular. Time to change the subject. She never managed though, as he spoke again. "But you have already made your decision," he was careful, slow, but clear "and it isn't a favourable one."

Alright, time to _really_ change the subject. "Actually, I do want a ride on one of those boats," she admitted, out of the blue "although I _do_ know it's unnecessary," she assured him, trailing off.

He shrugged. "So?" Her eyes became smaller at his very nonchalant tone. "Let's."

That was not the reaction she expected; she was dumbfounded. "Bu, but I have to—"

"—tend to Tomoe, yes? We are at the far end of the other side of the city and we already saw all it has to offer since it wasn't that much; with nothing left to explore and no fixed schedule, let's take the scenic route back."

Her chin hang; she tried to object, finger raised in rejection, but she couldn't speak. Nothing of what he said was irrational. In fact, he was right: they hadn't set a time anyway; besides, this could be faster, for all she knew.

She considered. "...it wouldn't hurt."

"And the rower could easily give us some inside knowledge on anything we might have missed."

That was it; she was sold.

Beaming, she nodded wildly and allowed him to guide her to the edge of the water where one of the little boats waited, while its rower rested. "Good afternoon," Saitou made himself known to the young man who was eating his lunch with his back turned "have the time to take us up the river?"

"Oh, sure! Just give me a moment to finish my manju," he hurried to stuff it in his mouth, cleaning his hands on his clothes. Grabbing the hat, he headed to his boat. "You must be those Shinsengumi people, yes?" he asked, overtly staring at Tokio's armour and Saitou's katana.

"We are! And we just finished seeing the beauties of your wonderful city," she easily struck up conversation, carefully stepping into the small boat, in fear of it toppling. "Or at least, all we could find."

"If you're looking for the insider's knowhow, you came to the right place!"

Once both had sat down next to one another, he pushed off the bank with his paddle; the way he moved them, they jolted, shoulders colliding. Strangely enough, none was too bothered by it. Saitou remained serious, hands in his sleeves, listening to the conversation next to him; Tokio on the other hand, wouldn't stop talking to the rower, making note of a location or learning about this most peculiar haven in the middle of nowhere and how it came into existence.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Tokio had learned all there was to know about Ronin Camp! It had been a very educational half an hour they spent up on that boat and, to his surprise, a pleasant one. He had suggested this on a whim, maybe using it to spend some more time with her, but he'd feared he made a terrible mistake. And yet, her voice soothed him; the man's equally enthusiastic tone was bearable, mainly because it offered valuable information.

Watching her have a good time rubbed off on him and by the time their ride was over, his mood was better than it had ever been, in, well, many years.

"Since you lot are soldiers, I bet you'll love those narrows I told you about;" he reminded as he steadied the boat for them "visit them as soon as you get the chance, alright?"

"Yes! Thank you, Yagi-san." She put the money in his hand; after a deep bow, she followed after Saitou, who was already walking away, deeming his one nod sufficient as a goodbye. She caught the rower's surprise at his reward with the edge of her eyes and she couldn't help the smile.

"What did you give him?"

Yagi had informed them that the fee for the ride wasn't a set amount of money; each person gave what they could afford or felt the rower deserved.

Her smile grew bigger. "A ruby." His disapproval was evident, but her smile never wavered. He said nothing else for the remainder of their walk to Tomoe's residence.

"The _Himura_ residence," she corrected amused, standing in front of the quaint dwelling, savouring a little too much of the _old_ style of Minkai. In fact, all of the ten houses in this part of the city were the same. "Let's go inside."

"I'll wait outside."

"Oh?"

"She's pregnant; feels wrong."

She shrugged. "I am certain Tomo-chan wouldn't mind you entering, but do whatever you want."

When he didn't move, his intentions became clear; he gave a nod and ascended the small steps, leading to the entrance. She knocked; waited; then the door was drawn open by Tomoe herself who bowed deeply, allowing her in.

"What are _you_ doing standing here?"

Ah, the kid; why was he not surprised? "Waiting for Tokio."

An eyebrow raised. "Out here?"

"I don't make a habit out of bothering pregnant women." Dumbfounded, Enishi moved. "I suggest you do the same and wait out here; it hasn't been long we came."

"She's my sister," he spelled out for him.

"Thus, not your wife."

In a rare show of compliance and acceptance of his misconceptions, Enishi looked away from the man, but came to stand beside him. Though the way he wore his clothes offered little room to put one's hands in one's sleeves, he did it anyway.

"I came here to ask you to attend the meeting; Himura is ready."

"Once she comes out, we'll head there."

An awkward brand of silence drifted all around them. Saitou was used to the quiet, but it appeared the young man next to him was most decidedly not. He kept opening his mouth to say something, only to change his mind and close it back up; then he would fidget, crumble the fabric between his fingers or bite the inside of his cheek. Saitou tried hard to ignore him, but he was almost abuzz.

After the hundredth failed attempt to speak, Saitou snapped. "Out with it already."

"Do you...do you know if..."

He stopped; whatever it was, he couldn't say it. But if he was looking for sympathy, he lucked out, for Saitou felt his temper rising and turned to glare at the younger man. Adequately prompted, Enishi took a very deep breath and hurriedly asked "do you know if Tokio-san is attached to anyone?"

A long, uncomfortable moment of silence stretched; for what felt like an eternity, none of the two people would react in any way. But then the moment was gone and Saitou burst out laughing!

"Why are you laughing? Just because she's unwed, doesn't mean she can't be attached."

"Kid, get your mind off your sister, concentrate on being a good uncle and find a girl to distract you; that's what you need. Not running after a woman six years your senior, just because your sister loves her."

Enishi changed three colours, none of them stemmed from anger though; it was pure shame and awkwardness for being treated so lightly by another man, almost a decade older than him. The simple fact there was not a malicious bone in his suggestion, drove the point home all the more, making Enishi truly feel like a child.

"That's not true! I love Tokio-san just as ardently all on my own."

"But you're still a kid and she won't see you as anything else."

"You just say that because you want her for yourself."

He chuckled good-naturedly. "I'd tell you the same even if I didn't. Just find a girl your age to associate with; or even a couple of years older, if you're really into older women, but you're still fifteen; more than two years a difference it's too much."

Enishi blinked. "You're not even going to deny it?"

"Deny what?"

"That you want her for yourself?"

"No. Why? Should I?" Enishi was flabbergasted; Saitou merely shook his head. "Listen kid, maturity is important and sometimes isn't tied strictly to age. Take your brother-in-law for example; you think he went around asking your sister's friends if she'd have him or if she was available?"

Subconsciously, Enishi nodded no.

"Exactly. When I was sixteen, I didn't sit around, wondering whether Yaso would have me or not, I went ahead and asked her." A snort. "I hope this serves to show how immature you are and, instead of asking Tokio to go out with you the moment you see her again, you think about what I said."

"No one asked for your advice; both you and Himura stick your nose in where it doesn't belong..."

Although he did not appreciate being likened to the Battousai, he didn't comment. "You did ask something, giving me a chance to say all of these." When he pouted in response, Saitou nearly laughed again. "All I'm saying is, your sister and future niece or nephew, deserve a better version of you. I've been a younger brother to a beautiful sister, I know what it feels like. So, take it from me, you're way past overreacting."

Despite shooting him a resentful glare, Enishi said nothing. Ten minutes later, when the women came out, he still said nothing, other than warm words of greeting to both. Tomoe laughed in her hand then.

"Did Saitou-san keep you out, Enishi?"

"He did," the brother barked.

"Amazing," Tokio remarked "we found one who defeated Enishi's stubbornness."

"Not much of a battle..." Tokio's disapproval made him cough and clear his throat. "We are requested in the war room."

"Himura sent me to find you," Enishi supplemented.

"It's Kenshin," Tomoe corrected in that calm tone of hers.

"Whatever."

"Then let us go; see you tomorrow, Tomo-chan."

"Tokio-sama."

The walk back was awkward to say the least. She was situated between the two men, who did nothing but try to assert themselves as silently as possible. Enishi was all but posturing, either to impress her or scare Saitou, but none seemed to work. Thus, he was left preening like a peacock and they had to watch him slowly realise what he did was useless yet too stubborn to give it up. Cool and unaffected, Saitou paid no attention to him; it almost felt like he was the one leading the party, too, despite being the "guest". That's what a good spatial memory does for you, she supposed, for she always had trouble orienting herself.

Once they arrived in the meeting room, they saw Kenshin and Souzou waiting for them, in the presence of the effeminate-looking young man from yesterday as well as Okita.

"This is Shinomori Aoshi," Kenshin introduced him immediately "he and Okina used to be the Regent's spies."

"It's been five years we ran," Aoshi informed "the moment we found out who the Regent truly was."

"That explains the outfit," Okita quipped, putting in words exactly what the other two thought.

"At least he stopped fighting for the Regent before the future Empress showed," Souzou snubbed "unlike some."

"The Shinsengumi never fought for the Regent," Okita clarified, before Saitou became visibly upset "we fought for law and order. Ain't our fault if some believed the only way to oppose a dictator was by wreaking havoc."

"You _must_ have done something to give people the impression you were affiliated with the Regent," Kenshin contradicted.

"Ameiko recognised them as friendly to her cause," Tokio cut in "we'll leave it at that. I don't care about your common past, if it affects relations now."

"Forgive me, Tokio-san, you are correct," Kenshin conceded, a small bow accompanying his words. "Let's focus on the matter at hand."

"Our spies in Seinaru Heikiko inform us there will be trouble to come from there. Their trading post is completely taken over by Shishio and his men; they use it to store all the superfluous goods from their raids, as well as a solid link between the mountain and the grasslands. Officials who were linked with the Regent have taken quite the liking to Shishio, seeing him as a second coming of sorts."

"Maniacs," Tokio declared.

"The worst part of it is we have something more tangible than tolerance to fear from them: it is rumoured they will gladly lend their strength to him, should an all-out scuffle between us take place."

"They'll go that far?" Okita spat.

"Even with our presence looming over them?" Saitou asked, a calculative look in his eyes.

"Yes. Representatives of her Highness or not, they don't care."

"If that's the case," a smirk appeared on his lips "I believe paying them a visit is a must."

"Saitou-san," Okita drawled "didn't you hear the nice spy? They want us dead; they'll gladly set up a trap for us."

"We won't go unannounced," he continued, words full of double meanings that only few seemed to grasp, namely Tokio and Kenshin, who chuckled and sighed respectively.

"That's a risky venture," the short man warned "and might not end the way you want it."

"But if we send a formal letter, signed with the Majesty's authority, they'll have no way around it—they'll have to accept they were aware we were the representatives of her will. Thus, any steps they take against us, they take against her."

"That's all well and good," Kenshin objected "but there is no chance all sixty of you are going to be accepted; and if you think they can't make five or six people disappear and claim it was an accident, you are too naive."

"There'll be no need for so grand a number," Saitou coolly confirmed "we only need her, him and myself."

"Right," Okita finally understood "small, mobile and agile."

"Her word carries weight with the court, too," Saitou continued "so if she says we have been attacked, she won't be challenged."

"And if we manage to lure them into attacking us, we'll have ample reason to forcefully take over the post, establish a second base of operations." Tokio's eyes shone as she turned to the spy. "What do your men say about the populace in concern of Shishio?"

"Against, crushing majority; but they have no say what the rich and powerful do. They won't fight for them, if that's what you're asking, that's not one of the dangers. But, the few who would, they cannot stop either."

"That poses no threat," Okita waved him away "they will be flushed out when we go to them."

"I am in favour of this plan," Souzou admitted "but I should hate to leave them unescorted. How about one of us joins them?"

"I will do it," Kenshin volunteered immediately "I am the most skilled."

"Pardon me, Kenshin-san, but having two Shinsengumi men and adding you to the mix, feels wrong," Tokio joked "besides, seeing you are the perceived leader of the ronin, it'd be wiser to bring someone lower level. I would suggest someone unarmed even, to pose no visible threat, but who is good with his fists."

"That would be Sano," Souzou immediately referred "kid's nearly as good with his fists as he's with a greatsword."

"Then we found the perfect candidate." She seemed satisfied. "I'll pen the letter tonight; it will be sent tomorrow morning. A reply will arrive the day after tomorrow at the latest, if they know what's best for them. The morning after that, the five of us will be there."

"Sano will be ready," Souzou assured.

"Unless either side has any breakthroughs or emergencies, until word from Seinaru arrives, I suggest we leave each other alone, to formulate our plans," Saitou worded his order as a suggestion.

"Or explore your lovely, scenic city in the company of our ambassador of good will!" Okita added as an option.

The way Saitou rolled his eyes told them all he thought about that; Kenshin tried not to smile. "You need no permission, so long as your conduct is appropriate."

"You bet!"

"Then let's take a break from each other for now." Kenshin agreed whole-heartedly. "Tokio-san, you will continue visiting my Tomoe, yes?"

"Of course," she nearly took offense he had to ask "and if there are any remaining wounded or sick, please send them my way."

They exchanged bows and the Shinsengumi was on their way.

.

.

"That sure was fast of them, though," Okita mused out loud, as they were having their five minute break. "To think it took them precisely one afternoon to reply."

"That only serves to show you how determined they are to get rid of us," Saitou commented, morbidly amused, once he had finished swallowing his bite.

"The higher ups are rotten to the core," Sano darkly muttered, eating his own ration from his spot on the ground.

"Most, yes; but not all form of authority suffers from the same problems, Sano-chan."

The boy cringed. "Don't ever call me that again; it sounds _wrong_." Then he sobered. "And you're wrong; I've never met a person who had power and didn't serve their own purpose first and foremost."

"Where did you grow up, Sano-chan?"

He glared at her for calling him that again, but pushed past it. "I'm from a small, rural village in the Hiyosai province," he mumbled, looking down, hands on his knees.

Recognition shone in her eyes. "The Hiyosai province is well-known for it's silk...as well as the terrible men who ran its trade."

"Exactly," he spat, never looking up "they ran simple men to the ground, taking advantage of weaknesses and how they are the representatives of the throne, so, they intimidate, any action against them is treason."

"I have heard of their ruthlessness; when did you leave?"

"I was still a child..."

"Maybe you'll be a little happier to find out her highness has managed to temper them down significantly."

But he didn't seem convinced, nor caring. "Either the Regent or her Highness makes no difference."

"Kid," Saitou gave a warning, but Sano ignored it.

"They are only one person; how can one person know what's right for everyone, everywhere? This system forced upon us is flawed; _the people_ should decide for the people, not some strangers in a foreign place..."

Tokio looked at him impressed; Saitou groaned, remembering a conversation he had with the cleric not too long ago. She too expressed such revolutionary concepts, to his chagrin.

"Sano-chan," Okita started, upbeat as usual "never speak of such things in front of people you don't know well; you never know who might be listening."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he fired up immediately.

"Ronin or not, if you think the highness doesn't have her own agents mixed in with the lot of you, you are mistaken," Saitou explained calmly. He had finished his own ration and was simply resting, thus was quicker to stand firmly between the short man and the tall boy. "And you speak of things that, should someone feel like scoring points with her highness, sound like treason."

"Are you saying you are going to turn me in?"

What was it with the fifteen-year-olds in this camp that saw fit to grab Saitou by the front of his clothes? Sighing, he twisted this boy's hand to let go and wearily answered "I couldn't care less about you. Trouble usually comes from within, in such cases."

"It was just a piece of advise, Sano-chan," Okita pouted "no need to be violent."

"Sano-chan, you have a long life ahead of you," Tokio put her hand on his shoulder, effectively calming him "and if you play your cards right, we might yet see amazing things from you. Make sure to trust the right people."

"We should be going now though," Okita reminded everyone "we rested enough. Next stop, the city of Seinaru; and may Shizuru be with us!"

Saitou repeated the wish; Tokio made a quick prayer to Qi Zhong, too and they were ready to leave.

It took them another couple of hours to reach their destination; it was an uneventful trip, despite being watched the entire time—or at least from the moment they passed the Shouchi river and forward. When they saw the officials and their muscle waiting for them at the gates, they were certain. Probably so these people could properly lay their traps.

Good thing Tokio had warded the four of them against most evils with her divine magic—though she did warn them that physical traps, such as spikes and the like would be almost exclusively up to them and there were few things she could do. But that was alright, all three men had honed reflexes. Sano, maybe, she'd have to keep an extra eye on.

Their welcome was warm and _sickening_ ; sycophants, with their saccharine words, their too-friendly manners and reaching hands. They offered them food and drink, too, which they accepted, after a nod from Tokio, and then, the oddest thing happened.

They offered them a place to stay.

That was too suspicious, to say the least, considering they had turned away all of her highness's diplomats prior to this, for one reason or the other.

"Masters, wait here by the fire, won't you," one of the servants asked them, as he led all four into a spacious room, mostly bare for its size: a fireplace at the far end, with two luxurious armchairs facing it. On the walls, pictures of great victories or successful hunts were painted with bold brushstrokes of all colours. There was a table just at the left, by the entrance that held nothing on it. The rest of the room was empty, but the large carpet on the floor.

And yet, their eyes could not be fooled: this room used to be choke-full of furnishes and other embellishments both on the floor and the walls. There were places where the paintings' colours were more vibrant than others, as well as patches on the floor where the wood was more polished or the impressions on the carpet that existed without something currently weighing it down...

"We'll come get you the moment your rooms are ready."

The four people looked between themselves, satisfyingly on the same page.

"Of course," Tokio spoke for all and nodded for them to head towards the fireplace, which they did until the door closed behind them.

Then, they immediately grabbed the two chairs and brought them together, dragging them to the middle of the room. If they had taken such pains to empty this room so their precious furnishings wouldn't be destroyed along with them, that meant they were first of all, cheap and secondly, already underestimating them, thinking they wouldn't notice something so basic.

Another good thing was they hadn't asked them to leave their weapons behind. That only meant whatever they'd be facing would be something completely different than a dozen of armed men, but Tokio didn't mind; she had taken great pains to insure none of them would be vulnerable to elemental damage, such as fire and so on so forth.

But Sano was sharp: he was the first one to reach for anything to keep the two armchairs together to form a solid wall to hide behind; prompted, Saitou grabbed the rope and with Sano's help they had formed their little fort. The three men rushed behind it, barely fitting them, but they still managed, as Tokio made sure the door was locked and they were indeed trapped.

"Tokio-chan, quickly now!"

Saitou reached out for her; at the same time, a buzzing was generated and all four of them turned to the fire place alarmed. Whatever this was, it was coming; she had no time to take shelter. Oh well...this was why she cast all those energy-resisting spells. She dived! Using her shield to protect herself from the upcoming disaster, she lay on the floor, a good two metres behind them.

They braced themselves.

The buzzing turned into a roar and a second later, fire erupted! It surrounded them in a flash, all encompassing and suffocating. It burnt bright and hot, incinerating the armchairs. But as fast as it came, it left. It dissipated just as abruptly, leaving only smoke and ashes behind it, to prove its short existence. It had originated from the fireplace, as they calculated, and it was indeed a trap, set for their sake alone.

"Is everyone alright?"

"...yeah," Sano admitted gobsmacked "I am unharmed, somehow."

"I saw the fire lick my arms, too," Okita stated just as awestruck, inspecting his hands "but not a single burn left behind. Whatever it was you did, Tokio-chan, it worked too well."

"This is mid-level stuff," Tokio huffed for the umpteenth time in her career with them "it shouldn't be such a novelty to you two."

"Whatever it is, it helped; but if _that_ ," Saitou showed the fireplace with his thumb "keeps happening, I bet even your magic won't be able to save us. Let's get a move on."

He dusted himself down, pulling Tokio to her feet who was too busy complaining about them to stand on her own. His eyes held warning and displeasure, two emotions Sano did not seem to accept or appreciate that showed up the particular moment.

"What are you glaring at her for?"

"She knows," he simply said and headed for the door. "We should try opening it."

"I'll do it!" Okita exclaimed. "I learnt how to pick locks three years ago; I've been practicing."

"Just hurry up; if there's another burst of fire—"

Saitou didn't get to finish his sentence; a breath of cold served as the only warning of the upcoming wave of frost that hit them! Thick as a blizzard and sharp as ice, it descended upon them with ferocity!

"Fuck! That was cold damn it!"

"Language!" Tokio scolded Sano.

"It was nearly as cold as it was meant to be;" Saitou observed "Tokio, what sort of resources did you spend on us?"

"For the love of Qi Zhong, these are typical spells! Mid-level, typical spells; Okita are you quite done with that lock?" she asked impatient.

"I'm afraid my tool froze onto the lock itself; I can't do anything."

"Stand aside," was all the warning Saitou gave before he kicked at the door with a vengeance!

"Yes!" Okita triumphed. "It yielded!"

"Let's go, quickly, before the burst of electricity!"

Tokio had just finished saying it, shoving people out the door, when the cracking sound of thunder was heard. Not even a second later the, the currents followed! Thankfully, they were already out the door by that time, making a run for it.

"What the hell?"

"Catch them!"

"How did they even escape?"

There were six guards on standby who did nothing but fumble with their spears or ran into one another as they tried to give chase; it was obvious they were underestimated, to think they had given them no direction on the chance they managed to escape. But that was even better; now they could escape faster and deliver the good news to their allies sooner.

A deafening sound pierced their ears; they had to fight with themselves not to cover up, but keep running. "Was that the alarm?"

"It's safe to assume so, kid, yeah."

"Tokio-chan, can you do something about it?" She shook her head. "Then what do we do?"

"Keep running; we'll face each challenge as it comes—wow!"

Just as they rounded the corner, Okita almost ran into a sword! With an impressive move, he fell to his knees, sliding down to avoid it.

"They're here!" the offender shouted loud enough to be heard by the rest of his comrades; he couldn't avoid the punch in the face Sano sent his way though. "Uh...!"

In the blink of an eye, the three men had him surrounded, just as Tokio started casting her spell; the moment his reinforcements arrived, seven people from the side of the corridor they were running towards, she unleashed it! As if by divine providence, light appeared and struck them down all at once but each individually! Screams of pain filled the air, followed by some other, dramatic moans.

"I...I can't see! I can't see!"

"I can't see, either!"

Panic seized them, looking blindly left and right, fumbling with their swords and shields. Surprisingly, though the four of them who were washed down by the same light, none had anything happen to them.

"The loss of your sight is a testimony to your sins;" Tokio's voice cut in and everyone stood ramrod straight "the pain you feel is caused by the sepsis in your heart. Those who serve a noble cause, a just and good cause, don't feel the burn of this searing light. Ask yourselves, what purpose do you serve? What lord? If the answer leaves you unsatisfied, then try to change yourselves. If not, I have plenty more of these, to teach you the lesson. Now," she touched their foreheads one by one, as they all whimpered, unable to swat her away "take the light back in your eyes and as you gaze upon me, decide on your path: repent for your sins or keep fighting us, to whatever end?"

All eight men were honestly confounded when they saw their eyesight returning with her touch; shaken, they looked at each other for a long, tense moment; they might have been frightened but the awe was palpable. Then, the one who had initiated the fight, let his sword drop hands raising in defeat; the rest followed instantly, disarming themselves with haste.

"Keep the shields," she advised "and use them to make your own escape."

They needn't telling twice.

A smile reached Tokio's lips and reached down to collect their weapons. "We'll need them in our fight against Shishio, so I'll take them with us; these are certainly magical, good swords..."

When she turned to look at them, they all had a different expression of appreciation and surprise on their faces, with Sano being the absolute cutest, chin hanging open, cheeks turning rosier by the second. "Yes?"

"Wh...at was that? Did you really gave them their eyesight back with a simple touch? How? Are you not human?"

He rushed to catch up with the rest, seeing he was the only one left hanging back. But her laughter was short and hidden behind her hand, as she tried to stay undetected. "I might have overplayed my hand; that spell I used causes _temporary_ blindness, but they didn't know that. I did. And, you know Sano-chan, I'm a cleric; this is what clerics do: try and put people on the right path."

"But you were right about how it affects you only if you're a bastard," Okita half-observed, half-asked "right?"

"Yes, only non-good people are hurt by it and only evil people receive the full burnt of it." A smirk. "It's good to know everyone's heart is in the right place."

"I know I've said this before," Saitou started begrudgingly "but if you could always do shit like this, maybe you should have done them from the beginning."

She smirked wider. "That was not my purpose."

"It is now, though so whatever it is you can do, Tokio-chan, keep doing it."

"Aye," she assured and they kept making their way to freedom.

It hadn't been five minutes, they ran into their next opponent.

This one, they were sure they wouldn't scare away with a spell and some pretty words—they had to fight. For the towering, muscled man in all-black traditional Japanese full body armor stood right in front of them, intent clear when his katana, twice as big, was already drawn. The only visible part of him was his eyes, deep blue and ominous.

Saitou stared down his opponent in defiance, taking his stance. His own sword was drawn.

"I got this." was all he said.

Next second, he kicked off the ground! Launching himself against the black samurai, their blades clashed...! Only for the man to fail to block and watch helpless as the blade found an opening in his armour and slashed; blood sprayed, as Saitou drew the sword in a flawless arc. Furious, the black samurai stroke back! Saitou did his best to avoid the hit, but the reach of this weapon was ridiculous! It grazed his sides unforgivingly and he still had to twist his body to avoid the worst of it. A whistle and Saitou felt the small hair at the back of his neck standing straight; instinctively, he knew to bend his knees and sweep his head right. Some of his hair was cut, but thankfully, the head remained intact.

"This is your last stand; today is the day you die," the black samurai taunted, even as he missed his attack. "Say your prayers fast."

"Goddess Shizuru," he started; then he disappeared.

The black samurai felt his entire body electrified, a feeling of impending doom overwhelming. He turned around to block, but there was no one there. Instead, he felt a piercing pain from his left, rendering him unmoving for an entire second...which was all it took for Saitou to aim better and bury his sword deep in the neck crevice of his opponent's armour.

"Ugh...!"

The black samurai would have screamed if he could, but he must have found his voice box or a lung and nothing but a gargle came out, pathetic and weak.

"Thank you for keeping watch over me. May you rule forever in the heavens." As the light left those bright blue orbs, he took his katana out of the man's body, causing another fountain of blood; annoyed, he dodged the most of it, wiping his blade clean. "Let's go."

"You're all so ruthless," Sano commented something between inspired and incredulous.

"If you've been in the trade long enough, you know what to do," Saitou admitted as they all took to the halls once again.

"With adequate experience, you'll see that sometimes ruthlessness is at the same time a precious mercy;" he winked "stick with us long enough and you'll soon be an expert, Sano-chan."

At the same time, Tokio was inspecting Saitou's wounds, but he shrugged her off easily. "Don't waste resources just for this," he waved her off "it's just a scratch."

"A little deep for a scratch," Sano noticed.

"Yes, but still, just a scratch."

"As you wish," Tokio gave in "it isn't serious."

"You know at a glance?"

Sano kept being amazed at everything and it brought her a sense of joy. "One of the spells I cast on you before we went through the gates, allows me to keep track of your every condition. It was a precaution."

"You really do have an answer for everything," Saitou sounded nearly desperate "Shizuru have mercy on us."

That palace they put them in was a regular maze; so many rooms, hallways, balconies and storage places, they could barely navigate! It was no wonder it took them another half hour to find the exit...which was swarmed by men in studded leather armour and naginata in their hands. Twelve, in fact, while the ones who welcomed them in the city where nowhere to be found – they'd probably already ran away from the building, the cowards – .

The moment both sides took one another in, processing the information, they spurred into action! But no matter what the others tried to do, paled in comparison to Tokio's plan: slam the doors closed and run back a good distance!

"Stay where you are; draw your swords and get into position; Sano, let them come to you. And be ready for a fight."

"But why did you close the door?" Sano was still curious.

"Because now _they_ 'll have to waist precious time to open the door and we'll be the ones expecting them. Plus, this is a narrow corridor, barely three metres wide; they won't be able to align themselves and hit you from all sides—we have the advantage."

"Basic strategic maneuvers, kid."

"Like I said before," Okita teased "stay with us, Sano-chan, and you'll be an expert before you know it!"

"But why aren't they coming?"

"They are expecting us to come back out," Saitou explained.

Okita smirked. "And once sufficient time has passed, they'll start worrying we are looking for another way out; thus, half of them will come bursting in while the rest will wait outside—or better yet, leave for that other way out and let us be."

"And even if all stay, six at a time is far better than twelve," Tokio finished, shrugging, having just finished her spells. "Now, be prepared." she performed a last one and that hit all of them at the same time. "Perfect; but stay sharp."

Their "come out!"s and their threats stopped; she could picture them looking between themselves, hesitating and nodding silently, uncertain of what the right course of action should be. She moved closest to the door, its height away, and raised her mace. If they were comrades, fought more than five times together, then they'd finally make up their minds right...about...now!

The door shook off its hinges and fell on the floor! Two by two, eight men stormed inside, charging towards them. When they found them all lined up and waiting for them, they took some pause, but not enough to stop their ferocity.

It was a shame, really; Tokio didn't want to kill anyone. But, if they came for blood, there was nothing she could do but offer it right back. The moment the first man was in range, her hand came down! The mace found the man right at the face, knocking him backwards! The one behind him managed not to fall to the ground by a hair; instead, he jumped over his comrade, away from the cleric, heading straight for the only one without a weapon drawn. The man next to the first fallen soldier turned on her easily, swinging his sword wildly. She simply angled her body to the right, sword clanking on her black armour uselessly.

The fourth man sidestepped her entirely, too, aiming for Sano as well. Who, by all intents and purposes, was doing great with his opponent! He had gotten hit, but it was obvious it was nearly as serious as one would have thought; the hit, in fact, only served to anger him, a terrible cry escaping him, his aura turning even wilder. With a strong right hook connecting right on the guy's nose, he caused more damage than was inflicted upon him! The second punch found his opponent at the side of his face, substantial damage in the books.

But that second man was about to ambush him. Okita saw right through him though, and his sword descended upon him, hitting him right at the sides, stopping the attack dead in its tracks.

"That's not very polite," he taunted then, smile infuriating as usual "he's the youngest. Attack _me_ first, I'm the oldest." A second swing followed, blood spraying in a morbid fountain.

"Aaaaaaah!"

The sixth man had reached Saitou, followed closely by the seventh, while the fifth had been stricken down by the cleric's mace. They didn't have time even to react; he moved; two gushes appeared on number six, gurgling blood; then number seven felt the stab in the gut and fell forward. "What...in the name of our lord and general are you people?"

"Pissed," Saitou answered, just as he reappeared, flicking the excess blood off of his blade.

The eighth and last member of the first wave, was cut down by Tokio, as she made her third and final attack. The only ones left standing, the one fighting Sano and the second guy who came Saitou's way, where soon dispatched by a coordinated, team effort.

"Four left," Okita warned as Sano was about to lower his fists.

"From the looks of it, we can just sit back and let _her_ handle it," Sano commented, gesturing to the cleric. "She took three people out, one hit each; why were we needed again?"

"Get used to it, kid," Saitou mumbled, a little annoyed, yet a little proud, but she simply shook her head.

"If you knew better, you wouldn't be saying that. Oh, here they come!"

Only one slipped past her defenses; he was quickly dispatched by a bored Saitou. "Is that all they have to offer us?"

"Um, no, I don't think so," Tokio answered thoughtful, as they all moved to the exit "the convoy of horses I see out there, running away in a haste, I am guessing is the rest of what we have to fear."

"Fearsome indeed," Okita mocked "their retreating backs is a sight to behold."

"Wait; does that mean the remainders of the Shishio-friendly faction just booked it?" They all nodded and Sano gaped. "They are going to the trading post to fortify themselves!"

"Relax, kid; that was our purpose from the very beginning.

"Indeed!" Okita hit him on the back for encouragement. "Flush them out and take over the trading post to make it a base of operations. Should that happen, you won't even need to see us anymore, other than the last battle."

"Why?"

"We'll set up camp there, you idiot," Saitou scolded him; Sano's nostrils flared.

"I'm not an idiot!"

"Can we please go back and report now?" Tokio stopped the fight before it really gained traction. "I have so many things to do, my head hurts."

"Touchy, priestess."

Tokio hit Saitou with her shield out of spite; Sano truly appreciated her for the first time.

.

.

It was so easy to take over the trading post.

Once Hijikata was briefed and her highness was made aware of the situation – that Tokio didn't describe in full detail, in fear not to upset her for no reason now that she's with child – the decision to take it back was reached instantly. With their sixty strong, even without the ronins' help, they would have made it with no real sweat; but since they did help, the siege was ten times easier and over the same day.

The men behind the walls were too few to compare and too panicked to pose a real threat. They were all either killed in battle or apprehended by the Shinsengumi, who had already gathered their things and moved them close to the trading post. Then, twenty men – twice as many as the prisoners – under Nagakura's command, escorted the officials and their closest lackeys back to Seinaru to await trial. All but Nagakura and two more would return to the trading post; the captain would stay in the city to function as a ruler, in the absence of the real, traitorous one and the men would make sure the snakes didn't slither away. Of course, he would participate in the battle against Shishio, but till then he'd stay back and be informed through missives.

One of the biggest upsides to this victory was the loot!

Or, as Hijikata preferred to put it, the spoils of war. Shishio had a lot of emergency provisions in this small enclosed space, barely fitting all of the Shinsengumi in its bowels, be it in money, jewels, rations, or weapons. With this, there would be a surge of money in both close cities, Seinaru and Ronin Camp, as they were certainly going to trade with both, in preparation of the upcoming battle.

"Did you really find all this equipment in there?" one of the merchants in Seinaru asked them, dumbfounded. "This is high spec; in fact, I can recognise the craftsmanship on this one and it suspiciously resembles one of our own. Good crafter, steady hand; and fast! She can forge anything skillfully and swiftly."

Harada was confused. "So, this was stolen from her?"

"Oh, no," the man waved them away "she never made any mention. But maybe you should go meet her; she could have weapons or armour you are interested in. And with all the money you've been milking from me, you'll have enough to pay her."

"Let's go meet this person."

If she was being honest, she expected a dwarf and not this slip of a person, a halfling, hacking away over her furnace, sweat visible on her forehead.

"Greetings, my name is Takagi Tokio. We heard you are the most skilled crafter around thus came to see what you can sell to us."

"I've everything," she said in a heavy accent, amber eyes flicking to her wares all around, never stopping labouring over her project "from bucklers to greatswords. Take yer pick."

"Are we allowed to look around, then?" Okita asked cheery.

"Well, I ain't standing, am I? Look all ya like; just don't touch anything."

"Yessir~!"

That look she gave him, Saitou understood completely.

"Madam," Tokio started but the way the woman cringed made her stop. "How may I call you?"

"Teru's the name," she wiped sweat off her forehead with her elbow, short green hair gluing as a result.

"Teru-san, I'd like you to take a look at my armour; it has suffered a lot these past months and I haven't been able to take proper care of it."

Teru's eyes flickered to her; they widened but a fraction, truly seeing Tokio for the first time, and put the sword she was forging to rest for a moment. She stood. "Is that really an adamantine full plate armour in mah shop?"

The way she closed in on her, fixated on the material caused her to take a small step back. "Yes?"

"...I see it's enchanted;" she said, although she had her hands all over the material, feeling its rough texture, its sharp edges "I am good with magical items."

"Perfect."

"Take it off; I'll work on it as soon as I finish this sword. You can come pick it up tomorrow, bright an' early."

"That's great to hear!"

Saitou clicked his tongue. "No it isn't; you've nothing to change into."

"I don't mind," Harada interjected then, as he was inspecting an impressively carved elven longbow.

"I don't mind, either," Okita lightly added from the side, eyes never leaving the katana he was staring at.

"I do," Saitou retorted and there was no disputing him. "But there **are** shops that sell clothes; go buy some. Okita'll come with you, bring over the armour."

"Oh come on."

"Shut up, Harada."

"If ye're done measurin', I'mma need a bunch'a' diamond dust," she said the last part to Tokio "about five thousand. Go fin' that...too...are ya kiddin' me?"

When Tokio immediately produced the ingredient, obviously knowing the amount from past repairs, the woman seemed almost pissed. "Ya have it on ya?"

Tokio nodded, amused. "Can't afford to let things to chance; take the dust for now and I'll be back in ten-...twenty minutes tops."

"Sure," Teru gave in, looking amazed. Once Tokio and Okita left, taking a bow at the same time, the smith turned to Saitou. "Never seen that much money pulled out so casually 'fore, it gave me palpitations. Have _you_?" Both men nodded no. "Deep pockets, that chick o'yours..."

"Tokio-san is amazing for many more reasons than her fortune."

"'s the one that matters ta me, though." she tried to come to terms with the fact she was now holding a pouch worth so much. "If ya need anythin' else, please, look around; even if somethin's too expensive for ya, I've a feelin' she can spot you a golden piece or two."

Approximately an hour later, and not the twenty minutes she had claimed, they returned; when Harada pointed it out, Okita grew defensive, saying how everyone was out to get him and his great fashion sense. After bickering for some time, the armour was finally put on the only bare mannequin in her smithery.

"It's fortified," Tokio noted before they left "heavily."

The woman's eyes sparkled. "A'right! I'mma work on this all day an' night!"

"How much will it cost? Maybe we can include it in our deal," Saitou offered, and then promptly explained the deal to those who were missing: all new armour would be purchased from here, including shields, and any weapons in need of maintenance passed through here.

"Ain't happenin', mate; chick just dissed out five thousand like it was nothin'. Lemme make some profit off of her, she can handle it."

With Tokio's discreet laugh serving as the okay, they all left, bickering, to head to their camp, until the cleric informed them she'd be visiting the ronin. Saitou's tongue clicked. "Let me guess, you don't want to leave your patient unattended, even for a day." Her smile was guilty. "Fine; let's go associate with Himura's wife."

"She was my friend long before she ever met Himura-san, Hajime," she protested "I'd thank you not to refer to her as such."

"Sorry, you're right: let's go associate with your irresponsible, love-sick childhood friend."

"You're insufferable. And if you mind her so much, you can always _not_ come."

He snorted. "As if...! And I never said I minded her; I think she's very proper."

Clicking her tongue, she let out a tired "of course, proper; your favourite character trait..."

As they became smaller and smaller, going the opposite direction from the other two captains, their banter got lost in the wind and distance. Harada turned to Okita then, knowing he wouldn't be heard, perplexed. "Okita-san, do you ever get the feeling of being someone's child again, although you're too old and they too young for that?"

Okita looked at him; then the retreating couple. He repeated the motion a couple of more times until he deadpanned "yes." But then he reconsidered. "Actually, no; you're not the child, they just act...old...er."

"Parents-age older."

"Yeah; the way they go on and on about things you'd say they've been married for twenty years but no; they aren't even twenty five years old." A moment passed. "Huh."

"What was your mother's name, Okita-san?"

"Chiyo."

"I like that name; my father's was Shunsuke." A glint in his eyes. "And from now on, that's what we call them. It'll drive them mad."

"That is the stupidest, craziest, bravest idea you've ever had; I love it! Let's."

When they came back that afternoon, both people were left wondering what happened, when everyone referred to them with names different than their own. Tokio went as far to check for any active spells or curses, but nothing.

.

"Chiyo-chan~! Hijikata-san wants to see you."

"Will you stop calling me that?" It fell on deaf ears. She went to the vice commander disappointed. "You asked for me, Hijikata-sama?"

"I heard you are to head to Seinaru today again."

"Need my armour back; I gave it for maintenance."

"Then take the carriage—and two more men; we have some things we need to take to her and many to take from her."

"As you wish. But I won't return with them, I'll visit Ronin Camp."

"Yes, I know; your pregnant friend Tomoe." He waved her away. "But since you'll make the trip, deliver this to Himura." He threw her a sealed scroll. "News from her Majesty for their eyes only. But stay until after he reads it; if it's anything bad, I wanna know."

"Yes, yes, I am no idiot...I'll be going."

It cost her seven thousand to fix her armour; five in diamond dust, one for the wizard Teru contracted and one for her. Really expensive, but, oh well, she could afford it; better give something back. Changing into her armour, helped by the woman whose eyes were still sparkling every single time they fell upon her black cocoon. The men with her, dumped about thirty swords at the crafter's doorstep, but took most of her stock in armour, so she didn't complain. In fact, it was a great deal for Teru, with the only downside being, she had to prioritise them before anyone else. After all, Shishio had no schedule. He could choose to attack at any moment.

Although, after the disaster he suffered with the trading post, it'd take him a little while to replenish. Of course, he could always choose to make a surprise attack to take back what was his, but even for him that was too risky. His actions might seem random, but if one stepped back, they'd see the pattern: strike at the most profitable caravans or where most fear would be generated. His moves were ridiculously calculated, in fact, especially since he made it feel so random.

"We stopped two raids; Shishio is not happy," Kenshin informed her the moment she walked in. "I know the way that man thinks and predicted his locations, the moment the trading post was reclaimed. I think...he's soon to move against us."

"This is for you, by her Majesty," she said instead, producing the scroll "wax and everything," her smile was crooked "you're important people now, Himura-san."

He snorted "lucky me," as he opened his letter. He skimmed over it, a smile started to form; oh good, the news were pleasing. "Well, it seems her highness is not joking around. This became as serious as it can ever be."

He exhaled shakily, drawing her attention.

"Tokio-san, I must ask you to do this for me: in case I don't make it back, please take care of my wife and child; please keep an eye on Enishi, too."

"Kenshin-san—"

"I know this is sudden." She silently agreed. "I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now, but, to be honest, this is the first time it's just the two of us."

"I see..."

"I don't want to make my men think I'm not planning on returning, because I am—it's all I want. But in case I don't, please, Tokio-san; please take care of my own."

She could see now why his breath was so shaky, hers wasn't any better. "Do you trust in me so much?"

"I do, because Tomoe smiles for you." They shared a look of mutual respect and understanding.

"Is this prompted by the letter, too?"

"...in a way; the Empress just finalised everything stated in that piece of paper you gave me when you first arrived. That means, now, I fight for a cause much bigger than me. I must make adequate arrangements."

"Then how about this: before taking care of your wife and child and brother-in-law, I pledge to take care of you on the battlefield, so you come back and watch your child being born. Or, if the worst should come to pass, I can...bring you back. You know, as in, from the dead."

He blinked. "You can _what_?"

"Well, it messes with the natural order of things and it's very expensive, as well as exhausting, but I can do it. If you want me to. Some don't."

"...allow me to give you an answer at a later time."

"Take all the time you need, discuss it with Tomo-chan, too. Just give me your final answer before the final blow, should it come to pass."

He chuckled. "As you wish. Thank you. And, please tell Hijikata-san, Souzou, Okina and I will be joining him tomorrow, for a war council. I think it's gaining on us."

"I shall; have a nice day."

She left, feeling prepared for a number of things...but absolutely not running into Okita, in the company of a certain Toudou, chatting up a couple of the local unattached women, as they took a walk around the grounds.

"Gentlemen," she made herself known, as she walked towards them.

They both jumped in surprise first, but smiled a second later. "Chiyo-chan!" Oh god, not again...

"Chiyo-san, what a coincidence. What are you doing here?"

She felt her eyes twitch. "I am keeping an eye on Tomo-chan; she's pregnant, remember?"

"Ah, right."

"What about you? Out for a walk?"

"You bet!" Okita sneakily wrapped an arm around his date's middle. "There's a big chance we will be allowed to stay around even after the battle; we decided to form ties!"

The sweet brunette under his arm blushed; the impressive one Toudou was offering his hand to, smiled. "We decided it would be a shame if we never walked about this beautiful place at least once, too; and we needed an equally beautiful partner!"

"I see; well, I'll leave you to it, then."

"Come with us, Chiyo-chan!"

"I must head back," she kindly declined "besides I have already walked most of the city. Though, I did hear the narrows are very interesting for warriors; why don't you head there?"

"Oh, yes, that would be educational!" Okita's date exclaimed. "And I do love walking there."

"What an excellent suggestion, Chiyo-san," Toudou's date applauded "I haven't been there for a long time, too."

She was determined to slap both Okita and Toudou for this, she was.

"It's decided then! Buh-bye, Chiyo-chan!"

She waved her goodbyes, fearing she'd snap if she spoke and these women did nothing wrong to suffer her wrath. Besides, the ride back was certain to be soothing; just her, her horse and the green expanse of nature...

...or not.

She hadn't been an hour in her four-hour journey that she felt something sinister approaching. She couldn't put her finger to it; only that she felt something approaching, even before she saw anything out of the ordinary. Would it be a trap? An ambush? An aerial attack? She didn't know—only that she was lucky this happened after she got her armour back.

Five minutes later, she heard it: deafening crows of tengu, somewhere in the distance. A moment later, they appeared, too—an entire damn flock of the winged bastards, heading straight for her. No time to lose; she reinforced herself with her spells before the tengu got too close and promptly stopped her horse. "Go hide, beautiful," she whispered in its ear and jumped off!

Instead of falling to the ground, like one would expect, she stepped onto the air! As if it was solid ground, she took step after step skywards, until she found herself on the same altitude as the fast-approaching creatures. If they were upset by this, they didn't show it, kept flying towards her. So be it; she would wait for them right there. Drawing her mace, pulling out her shield, she braced herself. Any moment now.

And just as she was about to think that Shishio was obviously underestimating her, sending a simple flock of evil tengu against her, she saw the last thing she on her list of potential enemies: three huge dragons headed her way, coming through the clouds. Their serpentine bodies slithered in the air as they approached in break-neck speed, colours glistening in the late noon sun. Their whiskers were long, which meant they were old, which only spelled trouble; their claws, sharp and deadly. Two of them were dark red, almost black—the colour lava gets when it stops oozing from the volcano; one of them was the colour of the throne, the colour of their forests, with antlers, instead of horns as the other two.

And their snarling snouts headed straight for her, ready to spit fire and earth.

Huh. Now that made things a little interesting.

.

.

Okita and Toudou had spent a heavenly day with the two beautiful local women, so it had been no surprise to be prompted to leave only by the setting sun; a four-hour journey after dark would be dangerous, too, but being two of them helped their odds. Plus, with the threat of Shishio hanging in the air, even the creatures of the wild took care not to cross anyone's path.

That said, it was understandable for their comrades to be a little upset with their belated arrival—close to ten. Just an hour before going to bed, too, how reckless. Still, not out of the realm of possibility for these two young men; hence, to find half the unit waiting for them at the gates of the trading post turned fort, birthed curiosity in the two captains.

But when they noticed their arrival caused _more_ concern and alarm rather than alleviating it, they were at a complete loss.

"What happened?"

Hijikata was the first to accost them, looking behind the two horses as if searching for something, but it was Saitou who first asked "where's Tokio?"

Those words made them freeze; another, more potent, type of alarm coursed through their bodies as they looked at one another.

"She should be long here by now."

"We last saw her at...three!" Toudou explained, both dismounting. "She run into us and we asked her to stay but she said she'd head straight here. We haven't seen her since."

"She hasn't been back all day," Hijikata informed, pointer finger tapping on his arm, crossed his hands as they were "and we thought she was with you."

"But she wasn't so now, there's a seven hour window she's unaccounted for," Harada summed up.

Saitou felt the blood in his veins pumping, fight instinct in full effect."Did you see anything on your way that could have indicated she's in trouble?"

"No."

"Are you positively sure?" Harada repeated.

"There was nothing out of the ordinary. If..." Okita stopped to consider his next words, looking straight at Saitou. "If anything happened, it's off the beaten path; and if one were to look for her, they'd have to start ten minutes away from Ronin Camp."

"No! Saitou, no; you can't go looking for her," Toudou all but cried out and nearly jumped on his friend to restrain him, for Saitou was already going to his horse. "It's dark, we can't see anything!"

"Let go of me. Now."

"Saitou, think of what you're doing: one person lost, is alarming; her, is devastating; but having you go missing, too that's crippling!" Harada begged him to see reason. "We'll form parties tomorrow—look everywhere, leave no stone unturned. But we can't ride out now, it's suicide."

Just as he was about to become violent with all of the captains who now held on to him tightly and weighed him down, Hijikata put a hand on his shoulder. "They are right; we cannot go looking for her now. You won't either and that's an order."

"But Hijikata—!"

"I can't imagine her losing either," he said as calm as he could "so I have to hope she's hiding somewhere. We move with that mindset tomorrow at the break of dawn and that's final."

His jaw was set and it wouldn't relax; his fists were almost painfully tightened. Tried as he might, he could not fight the will to take a single step in any direction that wasn't his horse in the stables.

"Saitou-san," Okita faltered a little, when his burning glare thundered him "tomorrow; for her. We'll be less tired and we'll give her the proper—...respect..."

His words died out; it was only a glimpse at first, but then it became more visible, coming closer and closer by the second. He thought he was going mad, seeing something like that in the middle of the night, but before he could disprove himself, he noticed how everyone, Saitou included, were gazing up at the sky, eyes locking in on that approaching figure.

It was huge and slithery; its almost black scales offered it great cover under the darkness of the night, but its burning breath, the red sparks lingering in its horrible mouth, gave it away. And just as Okita thought he'd seen it all, he watched as an Imperial dragon descended upon their fort.

"Is that...?"

"It is," Toudou confirmed, mouth agape, "and it's definitely not the friendly type."

"Is it coming _here_?" Harada's question was much more nervous than Okita's; an electric current went through them at the same time.

"It is," Saitou answered. "Gather your weapons; we have a dragon to fight."

"MEN!" came Hijikata's swift reaction "GATHER YOUR SWORDS AND EVERYONE, GATHER OUTSIDE THE FORT RIGHT NOW!"

But before anyone could move, Toudou noticed something very peculiar. "Is that a horse in its talons!?"

Okita's breath caught. "That's _Tokio's_ horse in its talons!"

"But it's alive," Toudou repeated, awestruck "I can see it flail."

Just as they were about to think they were too late to react after all, seeing the dragon covered remarkable speed in a very short amount of time, they all stopped. Something incredible happened then and they were left staring in mild disbelief. Its mouth never opened to breathe fire down on them, as they feared; it only released a pitiful shriek. Sparks flew from its mouth, but nothing more. And the gargantuan beast came crushing on the ground right outside their gates.

Petrified, they waited for something, anything that could explain what had just happened.

And it came.

The horse, unaffected, maybe a little annoyed, stood on its legs and begrudgingly strutted to the side of the dying dragon's head. With shock, joy, and an immeasurable amount of relief, they watched as the very familiar figure of their cleric stood to her full height, right behind the monster's head and dislodged her katana from its nervous system. Then they watched her do the same to herself, taking out what appeared to be a knife from her side.

Saitou felt the world imperceptibly shift into focus again; sheathing his weapon, he rushed forward!

She sheathed her weapons, too and, very slowly, slid down the dragon's side. There to catch and support her was her trusted stallion, nuzzling its snout in her arms, until Saitou reached her, who all but shoved the horse away and gave her his hands to keep steady.

The rest followed after a couple of seconds, giving Saitou ample time to mask his absolute horror at the state she was in: the open, most possibly self-inflicted wound on her side, the certainly enemy-made gushes on her face, her hands and other hidden by her armour spots on her body, as well as her one closed eye, raw flesh replacing it.

"Tokio-chan," Okita breathed "what did they do to you?"

" _Who_ did it to you?" Saitou asked darkly.

"It looks so painful," Harada was nearly in tears.

"I'm...not as bad as I look..."

She tried to remain standing on her own; not that she didn't manage, but no one seemed willing to let her walk alone, so Saitou and Okita served as her crutches.

Hijikata gave her some room to breath before he finally asked flabbergasted, gesturing all around them, "what _happened_? Why ride an evil dragon? Why are you like this?"

"I was ambushed," she nodded with her thumb to the now dying beast behind them. Taking a deep breath, she cracked her neck. "Busy day...which reminds me! Kenshin-san said Shishio is pissed and ready to strike so he'll come by tomorrow first thing in the morning for a war council with his two men."

"Thank you for the information." A pause. "You really do look terrible; can't you heal yourself?"

"I have no energy left for that; only my one emergency, but that I save in case the attack continues here, too."

"But you're hurt," Hijikata kept pressuring "this is ridiculous."

"You can call on one of our healers," Tokio suggested, "even simple spells will do the trick. But even if they have no more energy, too, don't worry about it. Come morning, I'll be as good as new."

"As if!" Saitou snapped. "No one can recover so easily, you've said so yourself. I don't care what those two were up to, they better help. And you should really use your emergency provisions—this is the very definition of an emergency."

A chuckle escaped her and he nearly squeezed her in retaliation. "This is nothing compared to the Jabberwock, yes?" She shook her head. "I'll accept the help gladly, but I am not dying."

"Just tell us what happened," Saitou forced himself to say, instead of all the things that roared in his chest "and start from the beginning."

And that's exactly what she did; she explained about the sudden appearance of the tengu, coupled with the three Imperial dragons, followed almost a second later by the oni; once those were cleared, and she'd hoped she'd had a breather, came freaking undead Samsaran! Those things were tough; and if they weren't enough, two more imperial dragons made their appearance and then earth elementals crushed the party. And just when she thought they were done, once the last earth elemental was vanquished, there came the last batch of dragons, two more and strongest of all.

One she killed, one she almost killed and proceeded to use as means of travel; too bad the damn monster would stop and try and fight her all the time—that's where the contraption came to life: she united her dagger with her katana by a chain and stabbed the dragon with it, embedded it deep into its nervous system; the dagger she used on herself, to make sure she stayed in her place, as well as in control of the beast's mentality.

Long story short, they had gone so up north, it took her more than three hours to _fly_ back, which was why she was late. "I believe Kenshin was right; Shishio is pissed. Bet it took him a long time to gather all those groups to attack me."

"What if he attacks you while you sleep?"

"Okita-san, if he could, he would have done that already."

"Maybe he was waiting for you to be at your less powerful," Harada agreed with his friend "like tonight."

"I don't think so, captain," Tokio tried to tease, but they all glared. She sighed. "What do you want me to say? Sleep is the one thing I need right now—can't stay up and wait for one of Shishio's men to make an appearance."

"Of course you can't; you'll get all the sleep you need," Hijikata assured. "But one or more of the captains will keep watch."

Her displeasure was obvious; everyone else though was ready to shoulder the duty with pride.

"I don't need babysitters."

"Apparently, you do," Hijikata coolly retorted.

"Okita and I will be sufficient," Saitou decided for all of them "and I think it wiser to move her, too; I suggest she takes Harada's room. He can sleep in either Okita's room or mine."

"That sounds reasonable;" Hijikata agreed before anyone had the chance to argue "so be it." The complaints came immediately, but the vice-commander would hear none of it. "My mind has been made, there's no swaying me. You should have taken the initiative instead and—..."

For the second time in the same night, something coming from the sky distracted Hijikata. It crowed and flapped its wings as noisily as possible; they all looked up to see a black...eagle? It wasn't a crow but not a hawk either; it did resemble an eagle—a twisted, sickly eagle that carried something in its sharp talons. Instead of attacking them, he dropped whatever it carried, right in the middle of their little huddle and...and left.

Just like that.

Tokio's first instinct had been to kill the bird; then it was to smash to pieces whatever the eagle delivered them. Then she held everyone back, making them form a large circle around and away the thing, as she edged closer to examine it.

This was a mirror.

Her eyes grew; this was not too different from the mirror she had in her own tent to talk to her highness...she grew suspicious. She focused on it for a long time, but no evil auras came off of it—only the standard type of magic one would expect from a magic mirror. She considered.

"Hijikata-sama, with the utmost care and precaution, please pick up this mirror and give it the command to speak."

"Speak?"

"Yes, speak, it will...what did I say?" She slapped Hijikata's hand just before he touched it. "Put on gloves and prepare for the worst."

Whence he did, she allowed him to lift it off the ground, bring it to eye level. When nothing terrible happened, she egged him on and he told the mirror in a firm voice to "speak." For a couple of seconds, nothing happened. But then, slowly but certainly, the images shifted: Hijikata's reflection was replaced with a young man's figure, no older than fifteen. He had a pleasant face and a wide smile; his hair were short and fluffy, the same light brown with his eyes. Behind him, random people could be seen ithat they had no idea who they were, as well as the interior of a place they had never laid their eyes on before.

And then he spoke.

"Hello everyone! How are you?"

Hijikata didn't answer but the young man didn't care.

"My name is Hatake Heisuke and I am a bearer of bad news."

More men gathered behind Hijikata then, trying to understand what the hell was going on.

"I see you are confused. Let me explain: I am with Shishio-sama! We wanted to contact you, so we had our trusted falcon deliver this mirror to you so we can speak, for we have some very important news to deliver; important but, like I already said, bad." His smile was pulled downward a huge, fake frown replacing it. "Your sweet, cute cleric has gone missing, yes?"

Hijikata looked at his men; Hatake Heisuke took this as a sign of him being right, so he continued. "Poor woman; we watched her being attacked by some huge Imperial Dragons...because, in fact, we sent them upon her. You see, she's been a thorn in our side ever since you've arrived and Shishio-sama wanted her gone. So, we took care of it. Thus, I am very sad to announce to you your cleric passed away; she's no longer of this world. She was brutally murdered. And if you don't want—!"

"The hell are you talking about, shortie?" Harada barked, before anyone could stop him. "Tokio-san is alive!"

Hijikata turned to glare at his man, death in his eyes; Saitou felt like slapping him; Tokio slapped her forehead; Harada wasn't deterred. "She came back, you bastard. She didn't die, like you wanted her to."

The young man gaped; he closed his mouth in an instant and seemed to be doing some very quick thinking on his feet. "Are you terribly sure that is the truth?"

Tokio shook her head; the cat was out of the bag, might as well make herself known. "Yes. I'm very much alive," she admitted, still behind the mirror.

"Hm...I see..." He looked over the mirror. "Shishio-sama," he drawled "Shishio-sama, can you hear me?"

A very bored "what do you want, Soujirou?" was heard and the Shinsengumi tensed.

" _No_ , I told them my name was Hatake Heisuke, don't give my deception away!"

"...what do you want, Soujirou?" the voice repeated, just as bored and apathetic. That's when they were sure; the voice belonged to Shishio! Whoever this kid was, was powerful enough to be so casual with him.

"You didn't hear? They said their cleric is still alive; she just admitted herself."

"What?" Finally, some concern in the bastard's voice. "Are you sure they aren't pulling your chain?"

"Yes! I heard a _I'm very much alive_ , in a very womanly voice; sounded pretty disappointed, too."

There was a long moment where no one said anything.

"Tell them this, then: the time for the battle they've been planning is nigh; we will meet them head on, two days from now. Whoever gets ready first, strikes the other. And they better hope that damn cleric of theirs is as good as she seems."

"Yes, Shishio-sama!" All this while they were able to see only Soujirou and some of the background people, who appeared surprised by their leader's declaration, as much as the young man before them. "Shishio-sama says—"

"We heard him," Saitou cut him off.

"So rude," Soujirou commented cheerfully.

"Now you tell him this:"

But Hijikata was cut off by Tokio's intervention who, quite unceremoniously, ripped the mirror out of the vice-commander's hands to declare: "Tell him I'll look for him on the battlefield, so, this once, he better come face me himself."

"Oh. Alright; I will! Shishio-sama, the cleric says—ow!"

The mirror was snatched from the boy's hand, too and everyone watched with extreme interest as a new man appeared...his entire body wrapped in bandages. Whatever left visible of his skin, was burned beyond recognition, but his eyes burned with another type of fire. "Rude," Soujirou commented again, pouting, but he was brushed aside.

"No one has ever accused me of running away before." The smirk in his face spoke of amusement and concealed anger. "As penitence, once I find you, I'll make sure my sword runs through your heart and right out of your back."

Hijikata felt Saitou tense behind him; before anything too telling happened, he used his body to stop any telling movements. Tokio, aware but purposefully ignoring the going-on behind her, smirked right back at Shishio, amusement more dominant than arrogance.

"If that was meant to intimidate me, allow me to inform you your actual attempt at ending my life just a few hours ago was a little underwhelming, so your words mean nothing to me."

Soujirou, still visible next to him, started laughing uncontrollably, earning himself a smack on the head by a...hand; an effeminate-looking hand. Huh. Could this be Hanahomura? She smirked.

"I **will** say this, however, before I smash this mirror to pieces: your wizard better try harder at sneaking an enchanted two-way mirror in our very base than this and, warn her, if this is the best of her ability, to hide as well as she can, because once I'm done with you, I'm coming for her." The smirk disappeared from the man's face; he didn't become angry, but they could tell, he didn't enjoy the specific threat. Soujirou's eyes darted to the direction the hand came from, too, alarmed, and Tokio felt satisfied.

"But if she tries to curse me, or any of my people _again_ these two remaining nights we have at our disposal, tell her she'll change status to target number one."

They all watched as the man said absolutely nothing in return, but simply looked on haughty, bothered, but unflinching. She inclined her head as some sort of challenge. "That'll be all."

And just like that, she ended their talk.

Shaking her head, she wrapped the mirror in fabric. "I'm going outside." She headed straight for the now dead dragon. Once she was sure everything was all tight and nice at the mirror front, she took out her mace and, using the handle, smashed the glass to pieces! "I'm going to chuck it into the dragon's mouth now, make sure nothing remains out in the open." And she proceeded to do just that. A sigh later, she was going back inside.

"Seeing my not-death escaped Shishio's notice—"

"Until someone corrected that misconception," Hijikata all but hit Harada for it.

"—it is more than safe to assume he has no means to attack me in the middle of the night; thus, there is no need for any of the captains to lose sleep over me."

"Tokio-chan!"

"There is no need for you to guard me, Souji-kun," she pressed on, brushing them aside.

Most of the crowd had dispersed at this point, giving her ample time to head to her tent. Despite being in a place with real rooms, they didn't have enough for all; and some were already sleeping with a comrade, making it a two or three people room, she didn't want to impose on any of them further...or break chain of command and have two captains share one room. Hence, she kindly decided to keep to her tent, which was housed inside the post, on the second floor as the rest of the captains, at the only open space big enough for it.

"There's every need to guard you, Tokio-chan! My heart would be at ease, for instance, especially tonight."

"I understand that," she tried not to smile and give in "but I think inconveniencing you and keeping you up the entire night is needless. Tomorrow a new enemy might come and descend upon all of us here, in this fort; what will we do if you two are not rested?"

"...she has a point."

"No, Hijikata-san! Don't be fooled by her well-constructed arguments and bleeding heart act!"

" _Act_? You wound me, Souji-kun. Besides, all I'm saying is, if I made it back alive from that, I do not need to be watched over like a child. Yes?"

Hijikata peered at her face; it was...not a pretty sight. Her entire left side was mangled, her eye having suffered the most of it. She hadn't lost it, but it was in a bad shape. There were small spots of her bleeding without the point of origin being visible, only the evidence on the armour, as the blood seemed to ooze out of it. She had many cuts and bruises wherever visible, too which wasn't much and yet...she was standing, speaking and walking as normal. Apparently, these weren't as detrimental to her as others, for she even made light of them in her posture and resolute expression.

He turned to look at Souji's pleading eyes then. The puppy look was in full effect and he was known to be occasionally weak to it...so, he turned to Saitou.

Huh. There was a look he had not expected. The man was all but indifferent, nearly bored of the conversation, as if he couldn't wait for it to be over.

Odd; but so be it.

"She should be left alone," the man finally decided and went on his merry way.

"See? You should go now, too, get some rest. I'll be fine."

She hadn't been alone in her tent for ten minutes when she was already regretting everything about her decision. Somewhere along the way she remembered she would need help to get off this full plate armour, given the state of her as well as that one blasted thing wedged between her armour and her skin that prevented the one from leaving the other.

She couldn't just turn and ask for help now though, otherwise Okita would feel free to walk all over the commander's decision and end up staying up all night. She sighed. If only she had asked someone before that happened.

"Can I enter? Are you decent?"

Her deliverance came in the voice of a certain tall captain, who stood right outside her door. She smiled. "I always am."

"Tokio..." His voice held warning and she had to laugh.

"Yes, come in, please."

When he did, he was surprised to see her in her gear. "Still haven't undressed? Thought you said no one can sleep in full plate armour."

"That is correct, but...I can't get it off. And, don't take this the wrong way, you'll have to help me out of it." He gave her a look. She shook her head. "There's a...thing stuck at my back, can't take it off, though I've undone all the latches; it's digging in and it's driving me crazy."

He pointed at her back. "Can I...?"

"Yeah, go ahead." she turned around for him. "I'm fully clothed beneath the armour you know..."

"I do; still, feels a little...intimate."

She said nothing; simply brushed her hair aside and waited for him to take whatever that was – a dragon's chipped nail, turned out – out of her back. "I think I got it; hold still, hold still...okay. It's out." She felt a sharp pain and then sweet, sweet release. "You missed a couple of latches though."

"I know, I couldn't get them; my hand is a little...never mind, just undo them for me."

"You know," humour seeped into his voice "whenever I thought of the hurt warrior needs help taking off armour scenario, usually the warrior was me and the woman was the helping hand, not the other way around."

"Oh hush, you," she waved his teasing aside "just help me out of it."

"You're so demanding," he complained, but all in good humour. "There, tis done; you pull the front piece, I'll take the back."

She took a sudden intake of air and her breath hitched; despite the protection it offered, it also weighed a ton and for maybe the third time in her life, she really felt it—not as she wore it but just at the moment she took it off.

"Dear Shizuru, you look terrible," Saitou remarked, hanging her armour on the mannequin. Effortlessly he pried the rest of the plate from her hands and did the same. "Sit down, rest; do you need anything?"

"I'll be fine Hajime," she chuckled, but took his advice and sat "this isn't all that terrible. I'm just a little beat up. You come to me looking ten times worse."

He knelt to reach her level. "But we are men; and usually the offense; besides, I thought you were stronger than us. You are not supposed to get this bad."

"No, don't," she started a little panicked – and maybe a little offended – and withdrew her foot as he took to unfastening the rest of her armour but he kept it in place, and continued like she never even spoke.

"Because if you are this hurt, what will happen to the rest of us?"

"Nothing, this was all a trap; one that didn't even work."

"It worked _some_ ," he admitted, "I couldn't sit still for hours," finally bitterness and worry showing through. "It was sheer luck that mirror landed after your arrival; I wouldn't know what to do with myself if the timing was reversed."

She was going to be honest with herself, when he was so calm and collected earlier, not caring whether they posted any guards outside her tent or not in the end, left her a little baffled and, should she admit, bothered. Even if he did decide to put whatever this thing between them was aside until Shishio was defeated, it still felt a little cold. But now, it pleased her. She was petty, maybe, but happy.

He had moved up to her armguards now, taking more time just holding her arm than undressing it. "I was upset. It isn't like you to disappear for so long without a word."

"Forgive me, it was not on purpose."

"I know; doesn't make it any easier."

She smiled; he had finished taking all of the armour off and now he was just kneeling there in front of her, his calloused thumb running circles in her palm. He was decidedly not looking at her face, but instead, staring at her arms. "Hajime," she tried to get his attention but failed "why are you here?"

"...to make sure you are as well as you claim."

That was a rehearsed answer. She tried not to click her tongue because that look in his eyes, it was almost haunted. " _I'm_ asking, not Hijikata-sama. Be honest."

He finally looked up at her and all the emotions he seemed to be keeping repressed came to the surface all at once, burning up her face! No man had ever looked at her with such...concern before, such intensity.

"I admit, it wasn't the main reason, but it is not a lie; I wanted to see for myself, if you are truly as well as you claim to be. As to why I was mostly moved, I think it's obvious." Not to her, turned out, if her curious, wordless what was any indication. "I don't care what Hijikata thinks, you need someone to keep an eye on you."

"Hajime...!"

"The only reason I didn't argue was because, quite frankly, I had no intention of spending my night in Okita's company." Just as she was about to speak, he continued. "Change and go to sleep Tokio; I'll make sure you are safe."

"I already am."

"I don't think so."

"If you're only looking for an excuse to worm yourself into my tent—" his tired _I'll be outside, you idiot_ , went unnoticed "—I don't mind." She hadn't realised he was still tracing circles on her skin until what she said stopped it. Despite the fire that was now her cheeks, she pressed on. "But you have to be honest."

He looked at her for a long moment.

"I want to keep you safe, yet you keep getting hurt. You're always out of reach. How is that possible? I didn't come with you just this once and look at what happened. Can you blame me for wanting to be near you?"

Her heart beat so fast, she felt she would faint. "So then, why are you here?"

"Because every night I've spent sleeping in my tent without you in it felt cold; and this new room they gave me is too big and...empty."

She could pin point the exact moment her heart stopped: at that short pause he took to gather his thoughts, his breath and his feelings before he spoke the final word.

"I'd much rather spend the entire night standing watch outside your door than sleep alone in my bed. So don't ask me why I'm here; ask how I didn't come sooner."

"...you said we'd have this conversation later," was all she could say, eyes alternating between him and the carpeted floor.

A sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand through his hair, ruining the high ponytail. "I know, forgive me, but," he showed all of her, as if that explained everything "feelings happened and..." Just like that, all his energy was spent. "I'm sorry, you are right." Another sigh, heavier than the first and he let go of her completely. "Forget I said anything."

She caught his hands just as he was about to stand. "I can't just forget that now."

"You should; and let go. I will still stay outside your door, even if it makes you uncomfortable."

"I can't let you do that, I'm sorry."

"Tokio—!"

"I mean," she rushed to explain, hands raised in a peaceful gesture "if you wish to stay, stay; but I can't, in good conscience, allow you to sleep outside in the cold." Her heart hammered in her chest but she was determined to get this out. "It's a big tent, Hajime; sleep wherever you like. Besides, I...I've been feeling a little lonely since, too."

She moved.

Suddenly, she hated leaving tasks unfinished and seeing all of her leg and armguards lie on the carpet around her drove her crazy. She _needed_ to put them in their place, take herself out of her seat, away from him. So she left. Quietly, lightly, she moved about the room some more and he only realised she was going to change after she disappeared behind the rice-paper screen with something draped over her arm.

Twenty minutes later, she came out refreshed, wounds somewhat dressed, while donning her usual red sleeping gown. He had repositioned himself in her bed, armour discarded, sitting up rigid and uncomfortable, at the side he had chosen last time they had slept together. Trying to feel less like the asshole who jumped at the first opportunity, he concentrated on watching her go about, doing this and that, long hair dancing behind her. It was ridiculous how different she looked with just her hair down, actually; and right now, they also served to hide the mangled part of her face, the least addressed of her problems.

Then she grabbed a book and moved directly to her side of the bed. "I would like to read a little if that's alright with you," she informed, taking the oil lamp close to her "but if the light doesn't bother you, just go ahead and sleep."

"I am supposed to watch over you, you know." She waved him away; he shook his head. "This feels wrong."

"Sleep, you big baby; I will be done in an hour, at most. Besides, after what happened today, I think Shishio doesn't want a surprise attack, so tomorrow will be slow...take tonight to rest well. At least I will." She shrugged. "So, I'm indulging and reading till late."

"I see." He considered. "Then allow me to do the same."

"Certainly; I have all sorts of boo-oh."

When he put his head in her lap, as he lay on his back, she felt her whole face heating up! So big her bed was, his feet, as tall as he was, still didn't exceed the bedding, so she couldn't scold him to lie properly. "Oh, I see..." she mumbled as she realised he meant he too was going to indulge in something, and not read till late.

When he moved no further than that, her heartbeat settled. "...goodnight, Hajime."

He only hummed in return, unwilling to spoil his victory or the moment; smiling, she decided one hand was more than enough to hold the one-thousand-page leather-bound tome she brought to her bedside for some light reading, and the other should concern itself with his hair.

And so it was done. Ten minutes later he was fast asleep; an hour and change after, she decided to extinguish her light and lie down herself.

When she opened her eyes again, it was at the break of dawn; per usual, she-...no wait, this wasn't a usual morning. She remembered last night and an odd sense of serenity came over her, feeling the warmth of another person next to her. He was enveloping, she had to notice, for his arm was so long, it draped all over. Her back at his chest, the rhythm of its rise and fall had lulled her to sleep yesterday and woke her this morning. Slowly stretching, she rose and moved to a corner to pray, leave him in peace.

And yet, her absence seemed to stir him awake, too, for when she returned half an hour later, there he was, looking at her bleary eyed. "Forgive me, did I wake you?" she asked a little worried as she knelt beside him, on top of her tousled bedding.

"Not really." His arm instinctively reached out for her, circling around her middle. "Come back to bed," he murmured, still half asleep, and didn't wait to see if she'd conform to his wishes or not, simply dragged her close. The warmth returned immediately and, despite her surprise at his forward gestures, covered herself again.

He'd closed his eyes again, but as he felt her bury her face in the crook of his neck, blush rising but ignored, it made him feel relaxed. "'s better."

"Let's just go back to sleep," she squeaked when both his hands closed around her, lips lazily grazing her forehead. But when his reply was nothing but another sloppy grunt, it dawned on her, she was the one who had trouble going back to sleep. Mentally scolding herself, she forced her body to relax.

" _Tokio-chan_...!"

A familiar voice.

" _Tokio-chan, are you awake_?"

It came from somewhere close by.

"Tokio-chan, are you decent?"

A persistent one, too.

"Tokio-chan, we sort of have an emergency~" the familiar voice sang right outside her tent's door. "Open up~!"

"Make that idiot shut up, or I'll strangle him..." Saitou complained in her ear, voice sleepy but raw. She had to chuckle, disregarding the impossibility of her situation right this moment, and looked over her shoulder to find him in a frown.

"Hush, you," she shushed him, a light smack on his hand following "or I'll tell him to come in." He actually growled but obeyed. "Okita-san, give me a moment," she spoke louder, earning a cheery "Tokio-chan!" from the man out her door. "I'm coming."

But just as she was about to stand, he dragged her back down. "Thought you said we could oversleep today," he grumbled.

"Judging by the fact Okita is already up, we certainly have," she whispered and tried to pry her fabrics away from his grasp.

"More."

"Are you a child? Let me go."

He growled some more but did it. "At least put on something else." The slap that came his way, he expected. That knocked some of the lethargy out of his system though and he opened his eyes enough to watch her exit the tent.

"What is it, Souji-kun?" he heard her ask.

"Himura-san is already here for the war council!" Her reaction must have been comical for Okita laughed. "It's barely half past nine; he said he couldn't sleep."

"And you want me to join you; I'm coming."

"Well, we want you to come and then maybe help us find Saitou-san so he can come, too! I went by his room but he wasn't there. Hijikata-san looked for him in the training grounds but he was nowhere to be found; he wasn't in the mess hall either—we circled back to his room but still came up empty." There was a pause. "We tried everywhere, even the stables. His horse was there at least...but as you can guess, we are slightly upset. Hoped you'd help us find him." Another pause and Saitou was now actually lying on his side, facing the door, interested in this conversation. "Tokio-chan, don't laugh! This is a serious matter, he could be hurt."

"He's fine, Souji, I can assure you."

"How can you know that? Tokio-chan, stop laughing...!"

"I'll, I'll go put on my armour now; I'll meet you there."

"Stop laughing Tokio-chan!"

She was waving him away, still shaking with mirth when she walked back in, hand covering her mouth. "Just go, we'll meet you there," she called out, heading straight for him. "Heard your friend? They have an emergency."

He smirked. "Why didn't you tell him where I was?"

"Oh? What's this? You suddenly don't mind people prying into your private matters?"

"That's fair..." But just as the light caught her face properly, all of his arrogance was swiftly replaced by surprise and he actually shot up to his knees, hand grabbing her face a little indelicately. "Tokio, you're healed! All, all of it, it's gone; your face is back to normal."

"I know; I told you so."

He seemed too shocked by the concept though, kept touching or poking, a little roughly, too. "This is unbelievable...it would take me days, weeks even, to heal that with no intervention!"

She shrugged. "I never lie. I simply heal faster than normal people."

"That's remarkable."

He finally let his hand fall, shaking his head. "To think I was so worried over _nothing_ ," he lamented "how pathetic."

"It wasn't nothing; and it certainly wasn't pleasant," she defended his past reasoning. But then she did something so forward, he felt himself itching to touch her in a completely different way than three seconds ago. She actually swooped down low, very close and inclined next to him in a womanly way, shoulders bearing accidentally but almost on purpose. "What followed _was_ though. And I would never call it pathetic..."

She gave him a long, torturous moment to think about what she just said in detail before she easily stood, tossing her hair. "Now let's go. You heard the man: there's a war council to attend."

"You're really not fair; you can't just charge through topics like that, we were having an entirely different conversation."

She shrugged, arrogant. "Save it for when you have to explain yourself to your superiors and colleagues."

"I'll just tell them I came here to make sure you were alright and you almost forced me to stay."

"Oh, is _that_ what happened?" He nodded. "Because I remember it a little differently; I remember you being very insistent abou—"

He grabbed her hand just as she had taken the first step away. With flourish, her pulled her towards him, effectively stopping her blabbing, while she made a perfect little arch before she crushed into his chest...and lips.

He kissed her.

All of his words were spent and this was all his lips were useful for, from now on, no more talking. With the last of his inhibitions, her own defenses came undone and let him have his way with a sigh, eyes fluttering closed. He was being careful with her and slow, taking his time. He dared, but not too much, yet it was fine; he had made his statement and that was enough...for the moment.

When he pulled away a heartbeat later, he saw her flutter her eyes open at the same time he did, lips slightly parted as she tried to regain her breath.

"Go get dressed now," was all he said, smirk ever growing, as he nudged her towards her rice-paper screen.

Wordlessly, she complied, a smile faintly forming on her own lips, too. That was a good sign and, despite his outward appearance, he needed all the encouragement he could get. What he was about to say needed a strong stomach. He took a deep breath as he headed towards his gear.

"So," he started only after he made himself busy with putting on his breastplate "if I promise I'll behave, can I join you tonight, too?"

There was a pregnant pause between his question and her eventual answer that caused him to miss his clasp twice. He had made his sentiments known last night as well as ten seconds ago—especially ten seconds ago. Her answer would indicate is she was going to accept or deny his intentions. She could have ignored him, but that path she walked away from, thankfully.

Then he heard a giggle and his body almost sagged with relief. "I can't say I mind the prospect."

Fifteen minutes later, they were exiting her tent, to attend the council; twenty minutes later, she was greeted by four amazed captains, as well as two leaders, who were all but gawking at the fact she had managed to heal so much damage overnight. Even Okita, who had seen her before, hadn't really registered until that moment.

And their guests, Himura Kenshin, Sagara Souzou and Okina, became just as awed as any of her comrades when they heard the extent of the damage she had received—and the fact neither she nor the other clerics had any magic left to help her made everything more shocking. But after she assured them once more she was fine, she was not pretending and all of that, she tried to steer the conversation to the point of Himura's visit: how to deal with Shishio.

"After what he said to y—"

But Himura was cut off by a very annoyed Okita who slapped his tallest friend's shoulder. "Most importantly, where the hell have you been?" He turned to Tokio. "Where did you find him?"

"I didn't; he found _me_."

Harada almost attacked him. "You were watching us look for you and did nothing!?"

"I had no idea you were doing anything of the sort."

"Saitou, we looked everywhere!" Harada was quick to clarify, thoroughly ignoring poor Kenshin's attempts to bring their attention back to the matter at hand.

"And you were _nowhere_ to be found," Toudou accused, the only one actually upset by his absence. He legitimately feared he might have gone off at the break of dawn for a surprise attack on Shishio. "We worried. Why weren't you in your tent? Where were you?"

"Who cares," Kenshin complained under his breath but he was still paid zero attention.

"I never left the camp, if that's what you're implying" he countered, but shared no further knowledge.

"Himura is right, this is insignificant right now," Kondou took over the conversation a little annoyed, but glared at his man all the same "just don't let it happen again. Now, we were discussing when would the best moment be to attack Shishio. We informed these men how he made it perfectly clear he'd be coming tomorrow morning but left it up to interpretation when the actual battle would take place."

"He did say, _whoever comes first_ ," Hijikata mused aloud "so maybe he's planning on a night raid."

"No chance," Okina cut him off "he needs his rest; if he was able to pull of something like that, he would have long done it before. He isn't merciful; yet he always strikes out at day. A midnight attack is out of the question."

"Then we march at the break of dawn and descend upon him in his mountain!" Himura suggested, a little more excited than one would have expected.

But Tokio shook her head. "Not at the break of dawn; forty five minutes after that."

" _Why?_ " was the collective question.

"She needs to pray," Saitou explained, but everyone expressed a different type of dissatisfaction.

"She can pray the previous night and after the battle if she so wishes," Kondou began annoyed "but we won't wait for so long for no reason." The woman's chuckle only served to incense the men around her. "What is so funny?"

"I do not pray at the break of dawn out of fancy; that is when my consciousness is directly linked with the esteemed Qi Zhong and I am granted my divine powers."

"Oh."

"What she means is, no morning prayer, no powers."

"Then, we march once Tokio's ready," Kondou immediately complied and everyone nodded in agreement.

"That leaves another problem," Hijikata finally spoke up "how do your men get from there, here, on time? We can't force them to wake up earlier."

"Oh that's easy," Okita waved his vice-commander away "they come now. It only takes four hours. We send a message and in five hours tops, they're here."

"Are you serious? We have no room as we are!" Toudou argued.

"We can always pull out the tents," Hijikata offered.

"Or, we could have everyone sleep together in half the rooms and leave the rest for our guests," Tokio gave another option "where there are two, have four men and where there's one, put two."

"Hey!" Harada immediately complained, knowing this meant he would have to share "I don't wanna sleep with a guy." Suddenly an idea was born in his mind, a moment too late, for four out of five captains said the same thing at the same time: "Maybe I could sleep in your tent with you!"

Just as they had finished saying that, or some variation of it, they turned to glare at each other...and proceeded to fight about it. She sighed; so did the two commanding officers; Himura and Okina on the other hand, was watching with amusement playing on his features, especially when he noticed the calm, lofty expression on Saitou's face.

"See? I told you, first day you arrived even, you'll be the cause of a fight sooner or later."

"Oh hush," she waved him away and he chuckled.

As the captains kept bickering, Saitou continued, very relaxed. "I guess it falls to me to stop it...so, do you think I should bring any stuff with me for tomorrow?" He hadn't bothered lowering his voice but none other than Hijikata, Himura and Okina paid him attention and both almost chuckled at the way he sprang this on her.

And when she shook her head amused, they could tell she was not going to decline. "Just that which you might need for the battle: armour, weapons, any potions, things like that."

"Alright, I can do that; so the rest should be as obvious, but I'm guessing Hijikata-san and Kondou-san will room together," Hijikata nodded affirmatively "Toudou with Harada and Nagakura with Okita;" the vice-commander nodded again, so, purposefully, he raised his voice for the next part. "Since it's all settled then, maybe we should talk about strategy."

All arguments stopped in an instant and all four men turned to glare at Saitou. "What's settled?"

"The sleeping arrangements," Himura answered with an involuntary smile and continued before all hell broke loose "but I'd rather we held off talking about strategies until my men arrived. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to send them the order to come now and consequently put this meeting on hold."

It was Kondou who nodded this once, and Himura bowed to excuse himself, but before he left, he turned to the cleric. "Tokio-san, can I have a word outside?"

She followed after him seamlessly and good thing she did, too for the men behind her exploded, shouting all sort of profanities at one another! Kenshin had to walk a little further away to be able to speak normally but once he found the spot he was looking for, he stopped to level an honestly concerned look at Tokio.

"What should I do about Tomoe?"

Ah, of course; the subject of his wife was eating him up, how could she miss it?

"I want her out of harm's way but if she stays back you won't be able to look at her; plus, I'll be here and how will I know if she's safe? While we're off fighting Shishio, I'd be calmer if I knew she was as far away from the battlefield as possible, but at the same time, I wouldn't be able to act if anything happened, and—!"

"Himura-san." Her voice demanded attention; he gave it. She could see his mind was running in circles and she felt bad for him; she couldn't even begin to imagine his anguish, but she could certainly see it end. "Your wife is safer closest to you and me; she'll come here with the rest of the troops."

"Oh thank the gods, you agree."

"I do; I think she should brave the trip. I have the suspicion Shishio won't attack a secondary location, he'll want all of his forces on this one battlefield; so I think she'll be safe. We always have emergency personnel hanging back anyway."

"I see; thank you Tokio-san. It means a lot."

"What does?"

Saitou's voice cut in and made both people turn his way. Tokio had to roll her eyes at his insistence to shadow her every step, especially when around the certain man, but Kenshin didn't seem to care. In fact, he looked at the tall man keenly and for a long moment. "Tokio-san, would you mind if Saitou and I had a word in private?"

"What words could you and I exchange she doesn't need to hear?"

"Humour me," he all but pleaded; Tokio simply made her exit by bowing and leaving them alone but Saitou stared at him for a long time before finally giving in and jutting his chin out. "I...love my wife very much." Saitou had to blink at the statement. "I asked Tokio for the best course of action concerning her, and she advised me to bring her here."

Saitou clicked his tongue at him. "I'm not that guy; of course you'd want your wife safe, who wouldn't? Whatever, do what you want."

"No—well, yes, thanks, but that's not my point, wait. Listen. I will do anything to keep her safe; I love her." Saitou was visibly losing patience with him. "If anything happened to her, I don't know what I'd do." Saitou nearly tapped his foot on the floor. "Which is why, I would never, under any circumstances, ever bring her to a battle with me."

"She doesn't even know how to fight, why would you?"

"Even if she did know how to fight," he countered then "even if she was better at war than I ever hoped to be," he pressed on, emphasizing and finally something seemed to click in Saitou's head "I would never willingly go in the same battle as her with her by my side." A pause, to look at him. "I'd be too distracted by how she was or what she was doing; was she well enough? Is she safe? Is she still alive or has Shishio killed her?"

Alright, he saw where Himura was going with this; crossing his hands, he expected to hear his point...so he could bring it down altogether.

"I believe bringing someone you care deeply about on a battle with you, is extremely foolish. You'll be too preoccupied with her to pay attention to anything else. And even if she comes out unscathed, you might lose your life for it. It only takes one moment...and, I do know this: you and I are alike in matters like these."

"So, what's your point, Himura?"

"Do you really want Tokio to be in this Saitou? Front lines, too; will you be able to fight properly?"

"Don't ever compare yourself to me again, no matter the subject." It was spelled out for him, dangerously, by an almost seething Saitou. "If you worry about me, who gave you the right? Just because we fight on the same side now, doesn't mean we're friends. And if this is some misguided fear for Tokio's life, you can't be more wrong; she doesn't need my concern, or protection: we need hers."

Despite the insults, Kenshin couldn't help the smirk, because, turns out, he was right. "So, you won't deny you care for her." How unexpected.

"I am not in the habit of lying; nor do I give a crap about what you think."

Yet Kenshin's smirk only grew as a chuckle escaped. "But does she care for you?"

A knowing smile grew on Saitou's own face and he couldn't help the quip that came out, even if it would give the Battousai the false idea he was somehow allowed to make such inquiries about him from now on.

"I think that will be decidedly settled tonight."

Realising now they shared some sort of secret or whatnot, watching the Battousai mirror his expression, he cleared his throat to dispel the too-friendly atmosphere all around him. "If that'll be all of your meddling, I'll go now."

"Yes," he rushed to be less informal with him, too "forgive me for assuming."

They nodded quite curtly to one another, as if finishing with civil conversation was too horrid to imagine, and went the opposite directions.

.

"What do you mean, we should bring down the mountain?"

Every single man was staring at her incredulous, Okina's question unspoken but very much there on all of their faces. She simply shrugged. "I don't know how to say it in a plainer manner: I think the best course of action is to bring down the mountain on them; I do not believe they'll have left it by the time we arrive."

"But that takes time," Kondou reminded her, thinking her daft for even mentioning it "we need too many explosives, time to plant them—we should have left already."

"Ah, too true; forgive me for not clarifying: I think bringing down the mountain is the best course of action and I am more than willing to undertake the task tomorrow."

Okita had to chuckle, disbelieving. "You mean to tell us you can just...do that?"

She nodded. "I hate it as a tactic and I almost never approve of it, but I think we have all established the urgency to deal with this matter, thus, this is my solution."

"Tokio-san..." Souzou begun, a little awestruck "you mean to say...you can make the mountain crumble?" She nodded; everyone gaped. "Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie when we are making our strategy?" The very notion offended her. "And even if they aren't inside the mountain, and they wait for us outside, I can still shake the earth beneath their feet."

Okina blinked. "How?"

She pointed upwards. "My God grants me the power to do it."

"You can actually do that then? We should trust in you?"

Tokio could slap Kenshin right now. "Yes, you should; and you should trust in the plan I came up with. We shall be successful."

"I have no issue following a woman's lead," Kondou said in the end, a little numb "her highness is a woman, too after all, but if this fails...we'll all be exposed, in the sense we'll have trusted you and you'd have led us astray."

"And then there's her majesty to consider, who'll be wanting a report and a visit here."

"I say we do it her way," Nagakura chipped in then – who had arrived first thing in the morning after Hijikata's midnight letter – "she was saying what we thought to be nonsense when we faced the Jabberwock, too but look at how that turned out."

"Don't just say _nonsense,_ Nagakura-san," Okita laughed at his friend's surprising sharpness "that's not polite."

"But it serves its purpose," Saitou assured, nodding his way. "I too think we should listen to her. She has not led us astray so far."

Looks were exchanged then and Toudou sighed. "She was pretty amazing when she defeated that Jabberwock; she knows her stuff."

Harada snorted. "That she definitely does."

When the remaining eyes turned to Okita he appeared innocent. "Don't look at me; I'd jump off a cliff if she told me to. Do what you want."

"Alright," Hijikata concluded impressed "seems my captains are unanimous about this. How about you?"

"Your men aren't idiots, that much we know," Okina opined "I think we should go with her plan."

Kenshin held her gaze for a long time; all the things spoken between them, her promise to bring him back to life if he so desired and all that implied, as well as Saitou's surprisingly unwavering faith in her...he couldn't do otherwise. He sighed, nodding. "So be it," he agreed, looking at Souzou "we will follow her command."

"Τhere's no command to follow," she waved him away "things will happen and each one of us will see to their role; we all know what we do best, let's just do it. Now, if you only feel secure knowing there's someone to turn to in a time of crisis and you think I should be that person, so be it."

"And this concludes our council. Be prepared. Oh, and Himura," Hijikata turned to the short redhead "you can have your wife barricade herself in here when we march, if you so desire; it's the safest place."

He nodded in gratitude.

"If there are no further questions, you are all dismissed," Kondou gave the order and everyone moved for the exit.

"I do, only one question:" Souzou started stopping everyone dead in their tracks "just what in earth happened with that Jabberwock?"

He was thoroughly and completely ignored save Kondou, who shook his head and tried to comfort him, admitting "they haven't told me, either."

.

That same night, earlier than anticipated, Saitou walked into her tent, dragging the "essentials". He'd chosen to change into his nightwear before he left his room and take anything he might need separately. His room was to be given to the Enishi and Sano, to his dismay, so he might have taken a couple of things extra. When she saw how much he brought, she broke into laughter.

He didn't care.

"At least, because we had to allow the ronin into the post, the men now know where to find you," she teased, as she watched him sort through his things.

"If you're implying I was somehow ashamed to admit I was here, you are mistaken."

He finished with the last and turned to her. He was surprised to see her rearranging the pillows to be next to one another while she half removed the covers to accommodate him. He couldn't help the smirk.

"Then why didn't you tell them?"

"Because I feared they'd get the wrong idea about _why_ you let me in and I was in no mood to swat away men all day."

"So proud," she teased, the smile on her own face huge. "Hope not too proud to listen to me when I say we should lie down."

For some unfathomable reason, despite this being her bed and her who suggested it, she still found herself second to perform the task, her who was reaching for him when she lay. One hand supported his head, lying as he was on his side, and the other found her waist once she pulled the covers, still facing him, and brought her close. "No man is that proud," he spoke in hushed tone "to decline such an invitation from the woman he loves."

Her reaction was too good: cheeks gaining colour by the second as the full gravity of his words sank in, shyness mixed with surprise. "At least, I'm not," he continued and brushed a lock of hair out of her face; he simply stared at her for a long time, savouring how despite her outward shame, she was smiling fondly at him, not backing away from his touch.

And then he opened his mouth and said the last thing she expected to hear. "You've made your decision, haven't you?"

This must have been the last thing she wanted to talk about, too because now she was looking away, trying to turn her back on him. But he didn't let her. "Judging by your reaction, the answer is not the one I'm looking for."

"Hajime, I don't want you to think I'm deserting the unit or you; if anything, being you who asked me made this decision harder that I ever thought it would be. I mean, there was no dilemma to begin with, until you brought it up, but..." she struggled to find the right words, eyes downcast "but...I...I don't,um don't—"

"—don't want to compromise your dream," he found the words for her and so shocked she was to hear him articulate the essence of her point so well, she looked up at him wide eyed. Slowly, she nodded. "I knew it."

"Hajime, I—"

"I am not upset." That startled her. "In fact, it was because I knew that I have taken steps."

Her eyes narrowed. "What sort of steps?"

"You'll know, once Shishio is gone. Won't jinx it by talking about it before that." She almost gaped at his shamelessness. He decided that was the best moment to lie properly down, too. "Why do you think I decided not to follow you the day you were attacked? Hijikata and I needed to talk."

"I see." There was a pause. "Will I like it?"

"Hush," he ordered. "The longer I stay awake the less inclined I feel to behave."

"You keep springing things on me, of course I'll be curious." He clicked his tongue and tried to turn her around but now it was her who wouldn't budge. "At least tell me one thing about it."

"Alright, one." He considered. "For the first time in my life, I know _exactly_ what I want; now you must decide on what it is you want, too and if these two things coincide, we'll both get what we want."

"So what do you want?"

"Sleep."

For a moment, she actually thought he meant he wanted to sleep but once he nudged her to turn on her side, she realised he was actually withholding that information and was asking to be left alone. "It's only a day away. Besides, if you still haven't figured it out, you deserve to be kept in the dark."

She almost turn to face him again, an annoyed "Hajime!" escaping her, but he only hugged her closer. " _Sleep, Tokio_."

And sleep she did.

* * *

 **A/N** : That was it! One more to go and we can all move on. i can finally start writing in my other fic, too that I keep putting off because I just. want this one. finished! The time is near. As always, thank you for being awesome, I love you, stay healthy!

Kisses,  
FAI~!


	12. The Priestess and the Grump, Part seven

**A/N** : I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

Hello, sorry I've been gone for a long time. It has been exhausting at work and real life so I feel behind on ff. Sorry~! But I'm back.

Second to last chapter, big battle ahead. No proof reading coz no time for that. Love you~!

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

He woke up to the feeling of sudden chill when something warm leaves your side; blinking the sleep away many times, he tried to focus, but he already knew he'd find her by her corner praying per usual, wrapped in that otherworldly light. Apparently, her god sent his well wishes as well as his powers for all three times he watched her pray, that faint but clear light always enveloping her.

He watched for a long time, just lying there. Her concentration never failed, nor did her lips, muttering praises and blessings. Her commitment was something to behold...and so was her tattoo. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed before, but the dragon had travelled to her face and neck, basking into the divine with her, uncaring of the attention it received.

Slowly, he rose. He remembered he had to be ready at the same time as her as well as they had Shishio to fight today. The sooner they left the better, he should not delay, despite its appeal. So, he dutifully donned his armour and wrapped himself in the rest of his gear; by the time she was done, he was battle-ready.

She said nothing upon seeing him, simply disappeared behind the screen and traded her kimono for her underarmour; once she emerged, he was already holding her chest piece. A smile rose to her lips as she allowed him to help her into it. Well, it was a fact that with another helping, full plate was faster to put on; but instead of leaving earlier, as they should, they both just stood there, in front of one another.

The memory of intimacy was still fresh in their minds; the warmth on their skin lingered. And for the very first time in her life, her own hand itched for contact. Without giving it much more thought, she interlaced their fingers.

"Be careful out there, today," she almost whispered, eyes closing; that's when she felt his lips on her forehead.

"That's my line," he complained and his free hand found her face.

This once, his kiss was different: deep, strong, demanding. She responded in kind, but he simply kissed her with all he had. Yet it was shorter than she would have liked, than he would have wanted, because there still was a battle to be fought. They broke apart, still standing in the exact same spot, only breathless and numb; their foreheads touched.

Without warning, she clasped a golden bracelet around one of his wrists. Then, she took a ring out of her pocket, a simple, platinum one, identical to the one she was wearing and presented it to him. After she muttered an incantation, with a nod, she urged him to wear that, too.

"What do these do?"

"Help me heal without touching you, amongst other things...but only if you stay close to me." Her smile was wide and soft. "So, don't leave my side."

A self-depreciating chuckle later, he shook his head. "You keep stealing my lines, today." She smiled wider, inclined her head in recognition and made to leave. "Give me another moment..." He stopped her, catching both of her hands with his. "Just a moment."

For a minute, maybe two – maybe three – they simply stood there. He was enjoying her presence; the fact they were both there, aware and ready to head into danger willingly, all so they could serve their Empress and their own ideals; that they were compatible; that, should this go well and both come back safe, maybe what they wanted would be granted to them.

That they were in this together.

Taking a deep breath, he let go.

They emerged from the tent but this once they were not alone: the entire body of the captains, their officers and the ronins' officers were waiting for them, fully geared. Everyone had a different sort of expression on their faces, but they were all determined: either to win, make a name for themselves, or _come back alive_.

"Took you long enough," Okita finally broke the silence, his trademark cheer bringing life to the moment "for a second there, we wondered."

That did it; now everyone was sniggering or exhibiting some other variation of amusement, nervousness dispelled by one simple comment from the short man. The bulk of their anxiety disappeared, though not completely, and that gave way to Kondou's order to "head out" in a much better mood than they had ever hoped.

"Still, you took too long," Okita kept complaining, well up on his horse by now, "what were you doing?"

"It takes her half an hour to pray and then another twenty minutes to get dressed; if anything, we came out early," Saitou informed, eyebrows high and attitude mighty.

Himura's smirk was involuntary. "Then maybe you are insinuating you helped get her in the armour? Out of it yesterday night, too?"

 _Shut up_ , Saitou's glare warned.

 _Make me_ , Kenshin's smirk signaled and to everyone's enjoyment but Saitou's, the banter continued well after the halfway point of their march, despite Enishi's protests.

But, once the mountain that served as Shishio's headquarters came into full view, everyone fell silent. Their eyes focused on the impressive size—it was big, for Minkaian standards. And so up north too, it was crazy. Suddenly, their plan to bring it down felt crazier and less thought out than they ever feared. Despite the clear signs of recent use, they could tell no one came in or out from the entrances, supported by wooden pillars and actual gates at some places, by the lack of any fresh trail. Also, no one was around to be seen out in the open, or the surrounding hills, as their hawk informed them.

"This mountain...is huge..." Kondou noted, with faltering confidence.

She only nodded, as she dismounted.

"Will you really be able to bring it down?" Souzou echoed the leader's doubt.

Instead of answering, she simply took her staff with her as she walked in front of and away from them. It seemed like she was using it more as a measuring stick than anything else, and when she completed fifty strikes, she stopped, deeming the distance satisfactory.

"Hold the horses gentlemen," she warned, shouting to be heard "and someone please grab my Tom's reigns, too. This will scare them."

She stood with her legs apart and her back straight; they could only see, not hear her from this distance but that much was enough: her hands moved wildly, staff dancing along, as if a dancer's show of skill for her majesty; the motions were fluid, grand and deliberate, garnering attention. Although nearly as practiced as any of her other spells, it was still a sight to behold.

And then, she struck the staff on the ground before her!

...the result was immediate. The deafening yet muted smash of her staff unsettled all of the horses; at the point of impact, they noticed a fissure appeared on the ground, one that started extending to unbelievable lengths, reaching all the way to the mountain. Before long, the first shake came at the ground beneath their feet! All riders had to put up quite a fight to keep their horses in place, neighing and kicking as they were.

Yet, how could it be that they experienced the first shake and the after-shake at the same time? As they glanced up for a second, trying to make sure there weren't any other changes happening while the horses generated all around too much noise to hear through, they saw something incredible: the imposing mountain right in front of their eyes, shook and trembled a thousand times more violently than them! Smoke and dust came from wherever there was an opening, huge splits and cracks visible on its surface already, as the top threatened to crumble.

Everyone kept staring awestruck, while Tokio, on the other hand, was performing more spells; one, two, three—she stopped at five, while still running back to her horse. By the time the seismic vibrations had stopped, she had rejoined them, already on her horse. Whatever spell she'd cast seemed to invigorate them, while at the same time, the golden bracelets flashed a pure white light, before going back to normal.

"I thought you said you didn't keep earthquakes in your band, Tokio-chan," Okita tried to tease, but it just came out amazed.

"Of course I don't; I _cause_ them."

"Tokio-san," Kondou started, too struck to say anything complicated "you should brag more often."

"I've never met anyone who can do that," Aoshi affirmed "and I've met some crazily strong people in my life."

"This isn't something I enjoy doing; too much blood."

It was no exaggeration to call it a devastation upon the land:

The mountain was no more; whatever surrounded it, was crushed by the falling debris. One could only imagine the horrors done to those trapped underneath the ruble inside what's left of the mountain. Thankfully, they were too far away to hear any of the screams that were undoubtedly released during the calamity, even if she did mutter a quick prayer for those who died in vain.

But she did exactly as she promised and whence the landslide was finally over, only one third of the mountain remained standing.

"Do it," Kenshin was heard then, voice rasp "if I die, do it."

"As you wish," Tokio assured, though it took her a moment to realise what he was talking about. "Though I do hope, I won't have to."

"You and me both."

Hijikata clicked his tongue. "What are you two going on about?"

"Arrangements," they both answered at the same time. All the while, none had looked away from what used to be the mountain. Good thing they didn't, too. Before they knew it, people started appearing half a mile away, in flashes; once they weren't, then they were!

"It's the wizard's doing," Souzou almost spat "she's saving as many as she can."

"Some don't need her—what the hell is that thing?"

Sano didn't need to draw attention to it, everyone's eyes had already taken the image in; they counted one...two, three of these crimson giants appearing before them, eyes smoldering. There was actual smoke coming out of their skin in curls while small horns served as hair on their heads.

"These are fire genies called efreeti," Tokio informed "vulnerable to cold. They can turn invisible and have some magic of their own; beware. They aren't as strong as you'd expect though, so don't be too scared."

She'd spared but a fleeting look at the creatures; the true interest lay elsewhere, namely at the man with the bandages that appeared first, yet did nothing to close the distance.

For some reason, Shishio waited. That didn't sit too well with her.

Wisely, none moved, neither them nor the enemy; and as Hanahomura brought the last ones out, the last band of seven, making it fourteen in total, plus the three fire genies, a deafening crack split the silence! All eyes fell at the only entrance and exit not blocked by the falling debris and they had the privilege to watch as people! Actual people came out, slow but certain, and three by three spilled out of the mountain.

All were speechless. His army was caved in. She killed them. How can they walk out, no matter how clumsily, and still draw breath?

And then she finally put two and two together. "She's not a blood mage; she's a necromancer."

Every man's eyes slid to Tokio, concerned or disbelieving.

"These men are undead, much like the Samsaran I fought two days ago." She tried not to sound too annoyed, simply informational, but it didn't work; her spite at undead creatures and those who raised them seeped in her words, corroding her mood. "Change of plans: Okita, Souzou and Harada, you go after the necromancer; Nagakura and Sano, you go after the efreeti; Hijikata-sama and Kondou-sama will lead our army against the undead army while Himura-san, Shinomori-san, Shi-chan, Hajime and I are going after Shishio and his group."

They all nodded.

"If doable, don't kill any of the living before the necromancer is dead," she gave some final advice "but other than that, go wild."

"No need to tell us twice," Okita winked as he prepared his horse for the sprint he was about to order it in.

"Be mindful of traps, though I think my earthquake revealed the most. May Qi Zhong and Shizuru be with us."

"To war!"

Kondou's battle cry was heard far and wide; Shinsengumi and ronin alike roared after him and they all charged together at the enemy.

Something similar must have happened on the enemy side, too as, suddenly, all but Shishio and Hanahomura, were mobilised. So, they were playing hard to get. That was fair; _they_ were the challengers, they turned up in their home and destroyed it. Might as well ride out to kill them.

Rows upon rows of zombies still ran, as fast as zombies could move anyway, and crushed upon their own men. The efreeti descended upon them, too...though, not all headed for the army or Kondou and Hijikata, no; one of them, the biggest, strongest looking flew straight for the charging party that had easily bypassed the undead army.

She saw it coming; she thought for a second before her hands moved swiftly and cast another spell on herself. She kept riding with the rest of the group until the distance she calculated the efreeti would finally reach them; then, she jumped off her horse and halted the entire group.

"Keep riding," she urged as startled eyes turned to her "I'll catch up in a second."

They did as she asked; she was the only one left standing there, her horse galloping with the rest. The fire genie recognised her challenge and rose to meet her; he spared only a passing attack for the men riding past him, but it was powerful enough to hit Kenshin square in the chest. He cried out in pain, but thankfully it wasn't powerful enough to knock him off his horse. Then it reached her the next second and its falchion hit her right on the shoulder—where it vibrated and was shrugged off.

She smirked at his anger. "Sorry, but no wishes from you; have a nice trip back to the astral plane."

Her mace had the chance to descend upon him only twice: fire spurted from his body like blood, two huge gushes on his chest as it writhed and thrashed before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. She only glanced at Hanahomura to see her swear for a second; then, bracing herself, she took a crouching position. One, two three—she vaulted! Running as fast as she could, magic speed carrying her feet, she reached the men on the horses in just six seconds! She whistled and Tom, her trusted steed, circled back around to get her; without losing her speed, she jumped once more, and it was so high, she found herself on the saddle without much effort.

"What in the name of the Inheritor did you just do?" Souzou asked her shocked.

"My boots are enchanted," she cut the explanation short as she settled on her horse "that's not what you should be focusing on. She is." Her chin jutted out to Hanahomura. "Awfully calm isn't she? No matter how many allies there are around her, we just defeated her genie like it was nothing. She _should_ be a more upset than that."

"We'll get her," Okita tried to pacify her.

"I have no doubt in my mind; I am simply worried what else she might be hiding. There's an awful lot of— _no_!"

As if sensing the oncoming hit, she jumped off her horse once more; instead of crashing on the ground, as they feared, she actually walked on air and grabbed Nagakura, throwing him off of his horse, too and they rolled on the ground, a good five metres away from them.

Shocked, everyone stopped and watched as something invisible stroke at the cleric a huge imprint of fire in a lean but long shape appearing on her armour for a second and her face for good. All variations of her name spoken in shock and worry left the men's lips, who saw fit to dismount themselves and head towards the scene. But Tokio's eyes only grew wider and she couldn't nod and shout them away enough before she jumped back up to her feet, standing protectively in front of her comrade.

As fast as she could, faster than normal, she cast another spell, directed to the great nothing in front of her...slowly, but oh so swiftly at the same time, the invisibility covering the offending creature shed, like a cloak slipping off someone's shoulders.

She needn't telling them to stay away twice; her spell revealed a terrible form underneath. A creature as large as the efreeti, but too, too terrible to ever be compared to that almost innocent looking by comparison. It had wings, black and leathery, sprouting from its back; two horns, sharp and bloodied on either side of his head; its claws were bigger than his fingers while the fangs on his face completed the hellish image. It was...evil perfected: its breath was fire's smoke, its skin burning coals.

And in his hands, a flaming, long whip on the left, while a huge, red-bladed longsword on the other.

Kenshin physically restrained Enishi without a second thought, as Souzou seemed to be doing the same to Sano, both hotheaded teens ready to jump into action, damned be the consequences.

"Shin-san, stand; he won't attack you. Then, go back to the others as far away from him as you can."

"I can't leave you alone to-!"

"Shin-san, I won't repeat myself."

She took a small step and found herself in reach of the demon in front of her.

Without a second thought, she swung her mace around one, two, three...four, five times! All but one hit their target. The demon roared in pain as blood spilled from his wounds, red so dark, almost black. Yet, each and every time she hit him, something, as if resisting her power from his core, rose from his skin, trying to infect her. It took some of its damage away while coiling around her. She resisted and suppressed it in the aftermath of every single hit.

"What may I call you, balor?"

"The Unforgiving One, human."

He actually answered, voice cruel and unrelenting. Despite speaking through clenched teeth, he still sounded imposing. There was something otherworldly but familiar about his pitch, as if they had never heard it before and yet, they knew it. It sounded like...the cracking of a wildfire, the screams of the innocent caught in it, the laughter of those causing it. They shuddered, still waiting for Nagakura to make the trip from there to them.

As if her nod of recognition was the cue, the demon raised his whip; everyone held their breaths. It came down at her once, twice, thrice—it grabbed her. The whip coiled around her hands and feet effortlessly, grappling her; the fire left another bold brand on her skin.

But the demon was not done. True to his name, he used his other hand to stab and slash at her. The first blow went through her like she was a pin cushion! Just as Nagakura was about to reach them, he had to stop and stare, mouth hanging wide open.

"DAMN IT!" Okita all but shot forward, too but he knew, if he was going to be any help stepping in, Tokio wouldn't have sent Nagakura away.

Then something unbelievable happened: the sword's second attack wandered a little too close to her neck; for one split second they all thought they saw the balor severing her head completely...then her armour shone magically and what they thought they saw dissolved right in front of their eyes as Tokio stayed entangled in the creature's whip, head still very much on her shoulders.

Saitou had almost had a real, actual heart attack and the only thing that held him back from lunging at the demon was the quick resolution of what they just saw. He didn't fail to catch a glimpse of the necromancer clicking her tongue, disappointed this didn't work or Shishio's suddenly very amped expression.

She withstood another savage attack but never failed to smirk in his general direction. "You may call me Tokio."

His laugh was arrogant and chilling; her counterattack was immediate. She did the impossible once more and attacked more times than she was capable; not all of her attacks connected with the beast, but those who did, were enough to cut its laugh short. Before long, the monster swayed, an abundance of blood escaping its previous and new wounds as an agonising roar escaped him. Yet, his roar of excruciating pain filled him with renewed vigour; that defiling, black, swirling energy seemed to heal some of his pain again. Yes, he was hurt, severely so, but not as much as he should have been. But now his laughter was gone and his expression had turned serious.

The Unforgiving One was snarling, lips revealing sharp fangs. "Today," he drawled, raising his sword "is the day you die, priestess. I doubt your armour can keep you head on your shoulders for much longer."

That was it. The fine line in his head was finally crossed and Saitou's feet carried him into action. He had no memory of unsheathing his sword, charging at the enemy and striking...only the sensation of failing. Whatever that demon was made of, it felt too close to hacking away a block of solid gold—almost impenetrable. His strike did nothing other than anger the beast.

Tokio's scream of "stay away" and her desperate "NO!" came in quick succession as the Unforgiving One, annoyed and vengeful did not ignore the new contender. A roar accompanying its malice, he slashed at Saitou four times! And the Unforgiving One did not miss. Instantly, blood gushed out of Saitou's brand new chest wounds; the searing pain came a fraction of a moment later and Saitou could barely breathe.

Then, still angered although a little appeased by his success, he turned his whip to the priestess who had not yet managed to escape his hold. He tried to hit her again, but, be it she was somewhat entangled in the tongues of the terrible instrument, or be it the fact she was slithery and quick, she avoided all of his efforts.

But something felt a little off to Saitou; the pain was a lot, but...it wasn't unbearable. It was nothing like it should have been. He looked at himself and yes, there was a lot of blood but, for such a huge sword and for such raw strength this demon in front of them seemed to posses, with all due respect, he had been hurt worse. What was that all about? His eyes turned to his hand then and saw a faint light disappearing; the same hand the ring she gave him was on. He looked up to see the cleric immediately. Without the Unforgiving One ever connecting more attacks, new slashes appeared on her skin.

His chin almost fell; the demon seemed to realise it at the same time, equally perplexed he hadn't caused as much damage as he wanted. Whatever those rings were they absorbed the hurt and the pain, transferred it to her. He almost ripped it off, but she saw; she knew what he was about to do and a "don't you dare" was heard loud and clear.

He hesitated.

That was all she needed. Without further ado, she started hacking away on the beast, almost as if her ferocity took the better of her, and went straight for the kill. Her eyes were focused on one thing and one thing alone: liberating herself from its grasp and getting rid of an important enemy...before he launched another attack because, she was definite, he would aim for Hajime because the Unforgiving One was not a simpleton—he _saw._ He would act on it. But where she could actually avoid or null his attacks, Saitou couldn't. And there was always the fear of being beheaded, much like she almost was, for, after all, everything the balor touches, becomes imbued with that ability.

And she wanted Hajime alive and well for all intents and purposes.

So she bashed and bashed and didn't stop, not even when she knew she fell him; not even when the Unforgiving One wailed and his knees gave out; even when his whip released her. She only stopped when she watched its skin buzz and shake with that unmistakable, imminent explosion.

They were caught in the balor's death throes.

"What the hell did you-?"

"Everyone, run away!"

She all but tackled him in her effort to sprint for it. Yet despite their labor, she heard it coming, felt the vibrations. One, two, three seconds was all it took. The ground shook, the air was polluted with sulfur; the explosion was huge and covered everything in unholy fire, flames devouring them and everyone within thirty metres worth the distance. Most managed to avoid the biggest burnt of the damage, but not them. And whatever damage he received half of it transferred to her and it hurt—skin burning without being burnt, ashes and smoke gathering in her lungs.

For a moment there was nothing but pain.

The next, _heal,_ she whispered...and both people felt their injuries lessen and dull. It was his wrist that shone this once, the bracelet, and he finally realised exactly what these were and what they did. He felt such intense anger he almost shook.

"I don't need to be protected," he bit out, as he pushed off the ground.

"The Unforgiving One begs to differ," she jabbed.

"I'm taking these off."

"You do and I swear I'll shift you to another plane of existence!" The look he gave her was enough to cause her to chuckle but lest he got any ideas she was actually not going to do well on her threat, she added "yes, I can do that; in more ways than one. Now move."

Her eyes slid to their men; she was happy to see one of the two efreeti was gone while the second seemed to suffer enough to entertain the thought of leaving, too but it still remained. And with ii, so did the possibility of...shaking her head, praying it didn't happen, she continued running to their horses.

After a long beat of nothing happening, other than them getting closer to their targets, she felt vibrations coursing through her body; the ground wasn't shaking at all, none other than her could feel it, because when she looked around no one had that same expression of foreboding, but something was wrong. Something big was about to hit them. As focused on Shishio as she was, she never failed to look around her and what she saw she didn't mind: their army was winning and their adversaries had finally moved: all but the evil couple were almost within reach and swords unsheathed naturally. One of them was flying, a bony, malnourished man, while the rest sported more conventional means of attack, such as scythes and katana. The one called Soujirou, in fact, had already taken a stance.

"Begging your pardon, Tokio-chan, but I'm concentrating on this one for a moment," Okita warned as he jumped off his horse, to match the young boy's stance. None seemed to mind his delay, as the rest kept galloping, to meet the rest of the opponents.

"All of you, fight whoever you like, but make sure to stay focused."

None spoke to contradict it, so they must have agreed and that gave her ample time to think. _There's still something I don't fully grasp and it's driving me insane._.. what was causing the bad feeling? Something a little ways away, something...permanent? She did her best to concentrate, hoping to detect the magic that unsettled her.

Saitou and Himura only needed to glance at one another to communicate how they needed to keep the attacks at bay, so she could do whatever she needed to – which pissed both people off but what could they do – and each took a side—Saitou all but hacked at the flying enemy, while Kenshin effortlessly slashed at a deceptively blind man, who dared enter their range.

"I see it now; I know what we must destroy! Hajime, you come with me; you, too, Himura-san, if you're able. The rest of you, keep fighting but don't get too close to Shishio without us."

She found the source of the foul magic that shook her to her core; she located its point of origin. It wasn't at the mountain or anywhere near the big players; it was carefully put somewhere far away from the fray, so it could not be easily reached and it would take whoever found it longer to reach. But horses were horses and they rode fast; there were no troops positioned there to keep it safe, too something that put her on edge but other than that made the trip reaching it shorter than expected. Before they went too close, though, she stopped them and dismounted.

"Keep your eyes closed; I want to try something."

She noticed there was a painted circle on the ground, a hundred feet away from her, runes and lines intertwined; somewhere close there, up on the bark of a bear tree, the only one in the immediate vicinity, there was a separate rune engraved on it.

Ah, there it was: a symbol of death. Thankfully, she had the suspicion long before she reached it and was able to look at it without triggering its effect. And it was easy enough to undo, simply dispelling the magic did the trick.

Once it was gone, and no other symbols were anywhere to be seen, she told the men to open their eyes and follow her close to the circle. And yet, the closer they went, the more little things they noticed that made their skins crawl: severed heads, skulls and rotting limbs and organs of all kind were left all over the circle. The smell was almost nauseating, but the three of them managed not to hurl.

She had them stand behind her then, as she pulled out a vial of holy water in one hand and a pouch with what appeared to be silver dust in the other. She started spraying and sprinkling in turns then, all over the circle, as she chanted her prayers. The more she spoke, the more intense the sizzling was from the ground as well as the rotting human parts on the ground. Even the skulls seemed to melt from the contact with the holy water but instead of leaving a pool of...something behind, they simply evaporated.

Once her efforts were over, the lines and runes on the ground had almost disappeared; energy was shaking the ground and, as if light and shadow fought for dominance, there were two types of smoke swirling one within the other. The second her eyes opened and her hands fell to her sides again, a blinding light shone! After a moment they could see normally again, only to notice how the ground looked...healthier somehow. T reverted back to its normal state, before the necromancer tainted it with her unnatural magic. The runes were faded, nothing more than a child's painting. Tokio seemed pleased.

"What happened exactly?"

"This is the place the ritual to turn whoever died into an undead took place; I consecrated it, rendering it useless." The two men looked at one another impressed. "Now she needs to do it all over again...but she won't be able to, it takes _hours_." She smiled. "That's one less thing to worry about but we must make haste still. Let us go."

But what they witnessed once they turned back to the battlefield, was far more terrible than anything they could have ever imagined: the final efreeti had just gone back to its plane, but not before granting the one thing Tokio feared most: a wish; a wish of the most terrible kind. Slowly, tortuously, they watched as time turned backwards, not for everyone, not even for a lot of people: only one thing, in fact, a certain place. The place where the balor had taken its last breath.

Her heart stopped beating for a second and then went into overdrive; all of her efforts undone, everyone looked on in horror as the Unforgiving One came back into existence with nothing but the now gone efreeti's will.

"Oh no...!"

Where they once were, now the army had advanced, as they gained ground; and where she once defeated the monster it was now brought back, smack dab in the troops, right next to Hijikata-sama.

"It is time," she grimly stated then, "though I hoped it wouldn't have to come to this. Please, go help," she spoke to the wind, as they all prepared to go gallop back to the balor through the ensuing chaos "and don't reveal yourselves unless the conditions we spoke of are met."

Whoever she was speaking to seemed to leave her side immediately, as a sudden gust of wind hit their faces.

"What was that all about?"

"You didn't think only the enemy had made provisions for powerful allies, did you?"

"What are theythen? Why do I put up with them?" Saitou pointed to Kenshin, who was not amused at all, with his chin.

She rolled her eyes. " _Supernatural_ powerful allies; better? Now stop talking, or you might bite off a tongue and hurry!"

Just then, Hijikata was hit; a terrible gush across his entire body made him drop his sword. His head hang and the only thing that kept him upright on his horse was the fact he had forethought and tied himself on the saddle.

Saitou felt his anger swell to unfathomable heights as he watched it all unfold before him; but he needed more time to get there, he needed to go faster, the world needed to be put on hold so he could make it and stab the bastard right in the heart...!

Kondou, the one closest to this entire mess, rode out to meet the balor's sword. He withstood the first slash like a true hero, but the second...it made him unrecognizable. He was beyond help, mangled flesh and raw skin—almost to the bone.

"Good Shizuru," Kenshin breathed, trying his hardest not to lose morale.

" **Don t despair**!" Tokio's cry was heard far and wide; those not in the immediate reach of the balor snapped to her. "That's exactly what Shishio wants, don't give into your fear! Besides, did you really think I would leave you like that? **Have faith**!"

Six more bodies hit the ground before the bulk of the men managed to ran as far away from the reborn demon as they could.

"Ah, the cleric who fell me the first time," the Unforgiving One easily spotted her "how fitting you ride back to me," and now was only focused on her. "So I can properly kill you this time!"

"I am a servant of the Master of Medicine, the Great all-encompassing Healer! Your unholy flames won't reach my allies a second time, hellspawn!"

His laugh was booming. "What about all the dead bodies lining the ground as we speak, priestess?"

"I see no dead bodies other than the zombies your mistress so carelessly created, Unforgiving One."

So focused they all were on the conversation right in front of them, none noticed how the fallen, bleeding, wounded soldiers had started healing; their wounds were either completely gone or, in Hijikata and Kondou's cases, nearly as severe as they were. Their consciousness seemed to have returned also, and all moaned or tried to move, to stand.

"If you do not wish to rejoin the dead and have your soul scattered a thousand times once more, I suggest you leave this place right now, while you still have the chance!" Tokio bellowed, mace menacing in her hand. "But if I reach you again, your life is forfeit."

The balor wasn't paying any attention to her though, he was focused on one thing and one thing only: the currents of the wind not twenty feet away from him that took the shape of something otherworldly...and divine.

"So, this is how you brought your comrades back from the dead—with the help of a _solar_."

He almost spat the word but just as he said it, at the exact spot the very fabric of reality seemed to bend, a figure of something incredible appeared: just as large as the balor, and just as imposing, only this one had no leathery wings of nightmare, but pure white-gold feathery wings in not one, not two, but three sets. It wore golden, glittering armor from top to bottom, while topaz eyes shone out of its helmet. It held a greatsword in its hand and a huge, golden bow on his back.

The lip had curled on the Unforgiving One's mouth, looking at the being with disgust. "What's _your_ name, angel servant?"

The solar chuckled, quite deprecatingly, but even so, it sounded soothing, calming... "My name is too pure for the likes of you to hear; now disappear, before we **both** come for you."

That was all the ego boost anyone needed; even while scrambling to get out of reach of the balor and make sure to stay safely away and simply hack away at all the zombies, their morale was reestablished; now they too had someone out of this plane on their side, one that looked just as powerful and threatening as the Unforgiving One. But his voice was reassuring, deep yet soft, like a whisper of well-wishes, like a hum of encouragement. It seeped inside their hearts and made them feel certain.

It made them feel supported.

"I take your threats lightly, angel. There's nothing you can do more terrible than what I—uh..."

The angel let go of his sword which, curiously, remained floating next to him, as he drew the bow; before the balor could finish his sentence, an arrow hit him square in the chest. Followed by a second; and a third; the fourth, not only found its target but hit the demon right in the eye socket!

But these arrows seemed to deal far more damage than anyone would have ever thought. As if sacred to the touch, they infected and corroded the demon from within; where the red, brim-stone like skin was, light tainted it, making it glow.

The pain was too potent for the balor, who cried out, clawing at his own skin. "You will pay for this, angelings!"

Just then, Tokio found herself within his reach. Crazed, in agony, he slashed and hit at her unrelenting. Once more, something terrible almost happened; once more, Tokio's armour shone and her head stayed right where it was supposed to be.

"Why won't you just die, light's slut!?"

She spit the blood, sporting two new red, raw burn marks from the whip. "Because your darkness doesn't scare me, hellspawn!"

With a jump, she found herself right in front of the demon. Without losing a beat, she started beating him with her mace; even if the demon managed to avoid some of the hits, those who hit, they hit hard. To add insult to injury, her mace found the arrow and pushed it even _deeper_ sending him in a bigger rage.

"I will make you watch as I kill each and every one of these puny humans first and only then will I finally—ugh, kill you, with my own two ha...nds..."

"You are nothing without your weapons, demon," the solar goaded "and as long as I am here, you shan't kill one more human."

The arrows found their target; the balor moaned. Its fury carried him through another bout, but only its whip penetrated the cleric's armour, who was taking all the pain in quite the stride, for all the damage dealt—in fact, Saitou and Kenshin kept staring, not quite processing how she could withstand and cause so much damage with such a tiny frame, muscles be damned.

And she certainly didn't take anything lying down: the more attacks she received, it was as if the more energy she stored inside her, unleashing a ferocious counter attack. Blood, blood and more blood came out of the balor, until...once more, it swayed. Once more, it fell on the ground and its skin started buzzing.

"Run!"

She commanded everyone and all, as fast as they could, ran in the opposite direction, his previous explosion still fresh in their minds. Those who didn't make it out in time, started burning. They tried to roll on the ground, but seeing the hell fire didn't seem to mind the zombies, they kept gnawing and clawing and slashing at them, making it almost impossible.

"Cleric, deal with this..." the solar pointed at the men, voice sympathetic but without empathy.

"I know my duties; I will."

And, like she'd always do after a difficult battle, she brought her hands together while closing her eyes just for a second; the next, that healing warm wave gushed out of her and enveloped everyone. The zombies instinctively moved out of its way as much as she could, but that alone gave her an idea. Without a second's hesitation, she did exactly the same, only in reverse! First she closed her eyes to summon her energy and only after opening them again did she bring her hands together...and let all of her energy flow outwards!

But the energy the felt was staggering and raw; nothing about it felt comforting like the rest of the times; it was righteous, powerful and oppressing. And it brought the zombies down to their knees...some were slain, falling where they stood; other withstood the damage, yet still received plenty of it.

"They are weakened," Tokio informed, still on her horse, "they can be dealt with easier now. Also, the ritual that turned people into undead has been disrupted, they can no longer turn. Kill to your heart's content. That being said, we have things to do."

She turned to look at the two men who were still following her around – both with a very awe-stricken look on their face – and when she noted they had no objection, she gave the command to her horse and rode out again.

Only this once, she was pleased to notice, Shishio was no longer lounging around with a smirk on his face. This once...he stood. And as he did, he went right for his sword.

"Finally, he makes him move."

Kenshin's voice betrayed a lot of what he was feeling at that moment: relief this battle would be over soon; anxiety the strongest opponent decided to enter the fray; some worry, over the fact they still hadn't seen any of his abilities; but most definitely, a decisiveness above all. He would face this man and hopefully, he'd come out a winner.

The more Shishio approached, the clearer things got, for Tokio. He was wearing on armour to speak of; he had a bigger katana than normal and he was infamous for his bouts of rage leading to disaster, death and tragedy. This led to one conclusion and one conclusion only: he was a barbarian. And if he was as powerful as the rumours made him out to be, they'd have a huge issue.

"I can't stress enough how important it is to have him come to us," she said after a moment's pause "and not to get separated. He might be less dangerous than the balor as a whole, but he is far more powerful, in terms of strength."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, I could easily live through all of the balor's attacks, but With Shishio...I'm not entirely sure that will be the case. And I don't really believe he'll miss his target."

Everyone but Okita, as she took a quick look around, had finished with their personal battles and headed to help them, or him. "Having multiple targets is a good thing, let them come," she advised both men, who were about to discourage them. "I don't think Shishio is stupid enough to do it, but maybe even he'll be overwhelmed by sheer numbers."

The wait was excruciating.

The bastard was taking his sweet time getting there, sword almost dragging behind him. The necromancer, they noticed, had all but disappeared from sight but Tokio had the sneaking suspicion she wouldn't stray too far from her protector. She moved her hands swiftly and then again, but slower; in the three whole minutes Shishio gave them at their disposal, she managed to perform enough spells to feel secure for the upcoming fight.

"Know that the solar refuses to hurt a human being, no matter how corrupt and has only decided to fight demons, devils and other abominations; he will gladly heal all of us, but that's as far as his involvement extends."

Saitou's eyes became smaller. "Did you make a deal with him in order to help?"

"Precisely," she affirmed, hand gripping her mace tighter.

But then, as if she thought better of it, she did something unheard of: she put the shield at its place on her back, as if she didn't need it anymore. Then, she proceeded to take her katana, the one she had used on the Jabberwock, and offered it to Saitou. After that, she grabbed the mace with both of her hands and waited.

"Tokio, what are you-?"

"He's gonna land the hits anyway," she admitted, "what I must do is focus on how to do more damage myself—as well as my allies." She gave him a look. "So, take it. It's a good sword." After a moment of silence and understanding, she spoke again. "Also, no matter what, make sure the necromancer is out of reach when we bring him down, otherwise it was all for nothing."

"But she's nowhere to be seen!" Nagakura all but spat in their general direction, just as he reached them.

"That's why I just cast a certain spell; it purges all invisibility. She simply needs to be within reach of the spell. She's smart, so she won't risk entering said reach if not absolutely necessary, but we just need to wait till then. She'll be easy to dispatch if we manage to get close."

" _If_ ;" Nagakura snubbed again "she's very slippery."

"Here he comes," Saitou said instead and caused everyone to fall silent "be prepared."

"I told you I never shy away from a challenge, priestess," was the first thing that came out of his mouth, once he was close enough to be heard; at the same time, he started swinging his sword, getting ready for his first attack "and I even warned you I'd stab through your heart; yet you still came."

"Your threats don't scare me; I have faced worse but I'm still here, yes?"

"Maybe you had better allies then; these ones aren't worth shit. Allow me to demonstrate."

He took an odd stance, too open for a samurai, too careless; his larger than normal katana had a longer reach, so even from ten feet away, he could make it connect. Kenshin saw the blade descending for him, unforgiving, but despite his best efforts, it still slashed him across the chest.

"Bastard," Saitou breathed as he drew his own katana, an angry smirk on his face "I had promised my commander to be the one to kill the Battousai—what do you think you're doing?"

Before anyone could blink, he had launched himself on their foe; one, two, three clean-cut slashes appeared on Shishio's body, raw and bleeding. The force startled him, forced him to take a step back just to remain standing. The blood spatter on the ground was gruesome...but the deranged man was still smirking.

"Don't go writing me off, just yet," Kenshin was heard as he had just found his bearings again "you'll have your chance to drive a sword through me another day. For this one"

Kenshin deployed that much-heard of speed of his; if Saitou wasn't so used to it, he'd have missed him. A savage attack ensued, hitting Shishio square on the chest. The ground beneath his feet was dug deeper by Shishio's effort to remain in place and not be driven back a single other step.

"This one I will live to see my wife again."

Shishio's laugh was terrible; something destructive came off of him in waves and gave all the worst feeling...his rage was taking over, Tokio would know that anywhere. Too many times had she been struck by a deranged barbarian not to have learned her lesson. As fast as her enchanted boots could carry her, she took that one step needed and circled his flank. She needed to hit him no matter what. She needed to connect.

She raised her mace. "Say your prayers for the last time, Shishio Makoto."

Please, God, let my attacks hit; let them be powerful. Let them be crucial...

She descended upon him with all the might her body encompassed. All five of her attacks, no matter how difficult it might have looked for her to do it, landed. For the first time, his smirk was gone and he almost knelt from the sheer force.

In the aftermath, he was bloodied and disfigured.

His rage peaked; everything was seen as if in slow motion from everyone as they watched him scream and shout! That alone granted him some sort of strength and stamina—they watched as his wounds didn't close but stopped somehow bleeding. His muscles hardened and his face looked wild.

"You will be the first one to fall, priestess!"

He turned the weapon in his hands and directed it...at Saitou. "Don't you dare think I didn't see, you sentimental fool!"

Instead of attacking her outright, he used the bond the balor unveiled to harm her beyond doubt and flesh. Even if Saitou saw it coming, he could do nothing to prevent it—he tried to back away, duck and dodge, but he was too fast, too hard, too powerful. Each and every one of his attacks landed. What's worse, one of them found an extremely vulnerable spot and oh gods, could Saitou feel the burnt of hate and regret.

Despite the initial pain though, all the rest of it was muted. Yes, he was affirmed; when Saitou turned to look, Tokio received half of it, bleeding out of her mouth and through her armour from wounds that were never inflicted upon her and she never would have received if it weren't for _him_.

With that thought banging inside his skull, his eyes darted to Tokio repeatedly, itching to go to her side, damned be the pain and bile. But he couldn't. He knew he had to prioritize killing this piece of shit.

But where was the necromancer?

"INCOMING!"

That was Okita's voice. He had just incapacitated his opponent and was heading their way, when he saw a goddamn fireball form out of nowhere! It came straight for them, passed right by Shishio and exploded exactly where it would have left only Shishio out of the way.

"I saw where it came from," Nagakura simply stated and his first instinct was to go there; satisfied, he watched Okita follow him there.

The burns had no effects; whatever spell Tokio did before, apparently it prevented them from getting burned. Perfect. Now Saitou was ready to strike.

"You will follow your woman in death today, make no mistake."

"Maybe _you_ will, Shinsengumi."

"None other than you will die today," Kenshin stated and, surprisingly, both Kenshin and Saitou attacked at the same time.

They had him flanked and cornered; one after the other came the slashes at his feet, his hands, his torso...Shishio shook and swayed they missed one or two hits, but most connected. Blood gushed out of everywhere. His cries were something to behold...! And even if he was still clutching at his sword, his head hang.

He must have been at his last, Tokio decided; they must find the necromancer right now, or this was all for nothing. She looked back swiftly; if she moved now, if Shishio was in such bad shape, he only had one attack to spare for her and that would hardly connect. She took less than a second to decide—she broke into a sprint towards Nagakura.

That was when she was finally revealed: Hanahomura, in all of her impressive glory, stood to the side, rummaging through her pouch like a madwoman, only one foot away from Okita...who never realised she was seen, until she had a taste of Okita's cold hard steel. Blood spurted from her mouth and her abdomen, as his katana cut her right open.

"I'm sorry," Okita murmured honestly "I really do hate hurting women."

"YUMI-SAN! No...!"

Soujirou wasn't as incapacitated as Okita thought; at the sight of her falling body, he rose to his feet, albeit clumsily. At the same time, a cry of pain and sorrow was released from Shishio right between the two men and, without warning, hatefully and with all he had, he started wailing on Saitou, blinded by rage.

Kenshin could not shield him; Saitou couldn't avoid it and, sadly, Tokio was right once more: there was no way he wouldn't hit them; they only had to be as lethal as him. But they weren't and now his sword was hitting every part of his body, or at least it felt that way: his ribs, his thighs, his head, his elbows. It was hell; hell on earth. Saitou felt his breath running out, his legs giving in. After a beat, he felt...nothing.

Tokio stopped dead in her tracks; she clutched at her stomach and watched on in horror as Shishio inflicted so much damage on him, even while she shouldered half of it, Saitou...let go of his sword and collapsed on the ground.

And his vital status read dead.

She tried to shout his name, but only blood came out.

She needed to be healed for sire, but he needed it much more than her; this wouldn't end like this, she wouldn't allow it. He wasn't allowed to die, not after all the shit he put her through! Her disembodied consciousness looked on and spotted Saitou on the ground. Her movements came naturally and her hands mover on their own. With her heart beating a mile per minute, all she could see, think or focus on was him. And when the spell was finished, her divine light enveloped him tightly. It circled and caressed him, breathing new life into him.

She watched with relief as his vital status changed from _dead_ to _dying_. She drew a deep, deep breath. "Thank Qi Zhong..."

Shocked more than he ever was in his entire life, Kenshin did the only thing left for him: actually stabbed and slashed at Shishio, making sure he had drawn his last, long breath. The sword finally ran through their enemy cleanly and he too collapsed on the ground.

Yet, not just the one, but two bodies hit the ground at the same time.

Soujirou had bypassed everyone and found himself right behind Tokio; no one noticed as he slipped right past Okita, and behind Nagakura, to stab the cleric at her ribs. Shishio and Tokio fell to the ground at the same time.

There was no dramatic cry of shock, no sobs or tears. They both simply fell. And just as Soujirou exhaled with relief, he had to watch as a divine light enveloped the cleric, an unseen hand stopping her from falling completely. It cradled her, and put her upright again, as consciousness was given back to her. Still, she didn't wake; she was simply left on her knees, even as she was unconscious, she supported herself on her mace.

Before Soujirou could raise his sword a second time, Nagakura gave him the final blow; Okita caught him right before he fell face-first on the ground.

He looked at his only waking comrade; then at the Battousai. "...what just happened?"

No one could answer him; they all kept looking at one another unable to think, nay, wrap their minds around what just transpired, to move or react in any other kind of way. They stood there like that for what felt like an eternity. So long it was, Enishi managed to untangle himself from the remainder of the battle and find them.

"T...Tokio-san? Is, is that Tokio-san?"

"Yes."

Oh boy, even Okita's voice sounded like someone else's, he barely recognised it when it left his lips.

"What happened to her? Is she dead!? Tokio-san!"

Kenshin grabbed him mostly by instinct rather than will, trying to find the words to calm him. "She's not dead, simply hurt. She will get better..."

"LOOK AT HER, SHE LOOKS DEAD! LOOK AT HER WOUNDS, HER COLOUR!"

"Enishi, please, try to—..."

"Has the cleric been slain?" the concerned voice of the solar came behind them, who had just noticed the commotion due to the young man's shouts. But the moment he lay eyes on her, he exhaled in relief. "Thank Qi Zhong, she's simply unconscious. She shall be fine."

With a graceful move, very much like Tokio's, he gathered holy light in his hands and then touched the woman; magically, many of her wounds healed, although not as many as one would have thought. "Ah, of course, she shares the link with the other human," the angel remembered, shaking his head. "Well, they shall both be up and about in a very short time; I shall go tend to the rest of the soldiers; you three should definitely come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere; I want to be here when she fully comes to!"

"Give them some privacy, Enishi," Kenshin scolded him, noticing how they were both already twitching. "Let's go with the solar," he urged, grabbing him by the shoulders, numbness leaving him all at once. Same thing seemed to happen with Okita and Nagakura, too who effortlessly communicated to one another their need to leave.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open; stiffness and blood were still there, painful reminders of the past hour. As she put all of her efforts in trying to stand, she remembered—Saitou! Her breath caught when she spotted him still lying on the patch of dirt she last saw him at. She immediately prepared a spell and hit herself with it as she stumbled all the way to his side.

"Hajime...!" She knelt next to him. "Hajime, can you hear me...?" He didn't speak; he simply groaned in recognition. "Dear Gods, you are so hurt...but at least, you are alive. And look," her smile was watery but thankful "most of your wounds are already gone."

"So, it only _feels_ like I died..." When she said nothing in response to that, simply caressed his hair, he cracked an eye open for the first time. "Tokio..."

"What?"

"I didn't really die, did I?" She turned her eyes away, serene but obviously trying to avoid the topic. "Did I?" He probed, but he was mystified more than anything.

"...just for a second."

"You brought me back?"

She nodded, relishing the way his voice started sounding more like him, the more he used it. In fact, he barely got to use it, seeing she was squeezing him to her chest as tight as she could, kissing his forehead.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Himura was right..."

"About what?" she asked, but she didn't really care; she was just happy he was fine.

"Said it's dangerous to bring someone you care so much about to the battlefield with you; too dangerous." Ah, there it was; he felt the rocking stop, her hold relented. She put him on her lap again just so she could level a very pointed glare his way.

"Wasn't he? Look at yourself—then look at me."

"Hajime, if it weren't for me—!"

He chuckled "you got this all wrong. I meant if I wasn't here, you'd have never gotten so hurt. I was the one who distracted _you_. I should have stayed back." The way she stopped talking and proceeded to stare at him, warmed his heart. "I'm sorry you were wounded because of me." Unceremoniously, he put his hand on her cheek and just held her for a long time. "But I am glad you were here to help. We wouldn't have pulled through this without you."

His thumb idly moved on her skin; her hand held his tenderly. "I'm always happy to help."

She dipped her head to kiss him just as he rose; they met halfway. Just as they parted, taste of happy tears and blood mingling, she heard that distinctive sound of someone teleporting. She looked up only to see...her highness, in all of her Empress glory, accompanied by none other than her trusted treasurer Damien Izkrael and, oh dear Qi Zhong, Takagi Kojuuro in the flesh.

After a beat, about ten guards teleported all around them. And there went their privacy.

* * *

 **A/N** : That was the last battle and the last big hurdle for me. Really, writing battles DRAINS me. I don't know why...Anywho, I am ALMOST there. Almost. Thank you for your patience so much sweeties. I actually decided on the next AU, too so look forward to it. I ain't saying what it is outright, but expect suits.

Leave a review on your way out, tell me what you thought.

Love, FAI~


	13. The Priestess and the Grump, Final part

**A/N** : HA! You didn't expect an update this soon, huh? Guess what, I was sick all week with gastroenteritis and had nothing else to do. I only started getting better today, so I had all the time in the world to finish this.

Take that illness; you won't keep me completely unproductive.

So, yeah, anywho, here is the grand finale. I did take my time with this one, I am very proud. It came out exactly as I wanted it. Did it take a life on its own somewhere there around the middle part? For sure! But I didn't mind, I rolled with it. 'Sides, no matter how much you plan shit, sometimes dialogue or the way you write certain characters leave you no choice but to leave some things behind and that's a-okay.

Without further ado, please have the last piece of this pie; be on the look out for the next installment which I really really hope you enjoy at least as much as this one. Oh, little treat for you, there's a slightly steamy scene somewhere there. It's steamy only because I ain't too detailed about it, just so you know *wink wink nudge*.

Love you all who already reviewed, and, everyone, so, so sorry for the long absence thus, almost double update to make it up to you. (Not beta'd for obvious reasons.)

 **Title** : The Priestess and the Grump.  
 **Genre** : Fantasy, Adventure, Humour, Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Fantasy, Pathfinder

* * *

"My Tokio!"

"Tokio-chan!"

Her father and the Empress exclaimed her name and moved towards her at the same time. The fact she was holding another person in her arms, was wearing a bloodied, thick, black and Western-like armour, or that she looked more tired than she ever had in her entire life, stopped neither. Not even that she was kneeling on the ground mattered to them, they just knelt beside her and hugged her tightly.

"Father, Ameiko," she greeted them back, never really letting go of Hajime, but kindly bowing her head "I am very happy you are both well and looking so healthy. How come you are here?" A meaningful look was shot towards her majesty. "So soon after the battle."

"We were obviously _watching it happen_ ," Damien came to lord over all of them, dressed in his signature oversized clothes. His sarcastic expression became amused. "You are quite skilled, little Tokio."

"Thank you Damien," she replied, shaking her head, but Ameiko clicked her tongue.

"How come you aren't upset when he calls you little but when I do it, I never hear the end of it?"

"Damien is, what, 200 years old?"

"Almost, yes," he corroborated.

"He gets to call me a child if he wishes. Now, Ameiko-sama, please stand up properly, for I can see every single person of importance running here as we speak. I'd hate for them to get the wrong idea about my allowances where your Majesty is concerned."

She did so hastily, but her comments of her being ridiculous were drowned by her father's inquisition.

"Who might you be young man? Why are you lying on the ground?What's your relationship with my daughter?" were spoken within almost a single second and even if he wanted, Saitou's addled mind failed to catch up and answer all or any of them.

"He's one of the Captains father, you've met him before; Saitou Hajime."

"Ah, the tall one!"

The Empress tried not to laugh at the simplicity this person's mind seemed to operate.

"And he was severely hurt during the battle, nearly died. He couldn't come to me to be healed, see; I had to go to him."

Before anything further could be discussed – and Damien's silent laughs be addressed by anyone – Hijikata, Kondou, Kenshin and the rest of the captains showed up. Aoshi and Enishi followed, with Sano being the last addition, just as Ameiko had started talking in her formal, royal way, congratulating them for their win and assuring them she was there to grant them all their promised rewards. Turned out, her father was going to serve as the witnessed needed and Damien was obliged to enact all she said, write the scrolls and present them everything, seeing his actual job was being the treasurer and not her majesty's doctor after all.

"Of course, for any of that to happen, we need to hold a ceremony..." she finished, all poise and posture.

"And for that to happen," Damien picked it right up, a devilish smile on his lips "we absolutely must head back to the Ronin Camp...where we are going to hold a grand party for all of you!"

Everyone broke out in cheers immediately. "And if anyone's wondering, how in Cayden's name we are going to do that if all of us are still here, then be informed, another delegation is already there, setting up everything. And for those who worry about their comrades in the Seinaru post, worry not; I personally shall coordinate the efforts to bring all of them there."

More cheers broke out, Kenshin sighed in relief – although slight worry; Tomoe was still pregnant and had no idea what teleporting would do to his unborn child – and everyone was satisfied.

"We have brought proper capital evening wear for the lot of you," her father informed "proper for any lord. That is but a small part of my humble contribution to all of you." Then, quietly, not unlike a child ready for mischief, he turned to his daughter. "But for you, I declare, I brought the most impressive dress of all."

"How unexpected," she teased, the Empress laughed and Damien shot her a scolding stare.

"How appropriate, too," Saitou commented and finally stood at his full height. "Ameiko-sama, Takagi Kojuuro-san, Damien-san" he bowed to each individual he mentioned "I would like to talk to you all about these rewards you spoke of; not now," he had to clarify, because they immediately took the "business" face "later, during the party, if that is possible."

The look pf suspicion and curiosity Tokio shot him was unrivaled; he ignored it.

So did her highness who simply nodded. "It very well is," she assured then and sooner rather than later, bowed to those who remained behind in that scene and decided to walk the battlefield.

As Tokio saw that everyone pretty much found their place organically, she had to sigh at this turn of events. Did they all have to show up now? Look at Hijikata, accosting her highness and going on about who knows what. Kondou naturally acted as the leader and tour guide, while Kenshin was far more interested in the treasurer than anyone else. Damien must have been the first foreigner half elf the ronin had ever seen...! Okita of course followed suit, while almost everyone else ran after her Majesty like lap dogs, all but Hajime who, quite surprisingly, had taken after her father, simply listening to the man, or speaking if he needed an opinion.

Ah. So it was up to her to take care of all the loose ends. Very well, she'd do just that. Without a single moment to waste, she attended to the matter of their enemies first: Yumi, or Hanahomura, was found first; Shishio was found second and got dragged all the way next to her. When she looked for the young one, though, Soujirou, he was...nowhere to be found.

Not good. She even wanted to give him the torch to burn his former comrades, in an effort to cleanse their souls; after all, if Okita left him alive, even after stabbing her, he must have seen something extraordinary in him and definitely redeemable. Sadly, she didn't find him. Hopefully, he hadn't taken off with anything Yumi had on her or any of Shishio's hair to bring him back, in case he ever found anyone powerful enough to perform a miracle for him. She would obviously check, but for now, hoping would have to do.

After the underwhelming fire she set the two lovers on, but only after she made sure they were completely incinerated, she moved on to do damage control. Addressing the Solar for this, too, they coordinated their efforts and none that could leave alive, left without being fit enough to walk home on their own.

All in all, this battle was a success. Their losses were minimum—not ten people died. By the time she had gathered their bodies, laid them to rest and tied them on horses, two solid hours had gone by in total and when she looked up to take a proper look, she realised she and the revered Solar were the only ones left.

"Where have they gone?"

"Everyone has already headed to Ronin Camp; you are the only one remaining, cleric."

"Did they say anything...?"

In a rare show of emotion, he chuckled. "You were preoccupied with saying your prayers for the lost souls of the damned and all those who were turned into undead against their will at that point," he informed, good-naturedly "and most of the humans were afraid to interrupt you. The half-elf asked me to relay the information to you instead; some complained, but after I reminded them how you staying back alone was in no way a problem, seeing you are more than capable to protect yourself, they all took their leave. The human who's taken a liking to you asked for your patience and how all will be explained to you, tonight."

Tokio couldn't help but smile at the way the Solar referred to Hajime.

"Seeing you, too have taken a liking to him, am I to assume there is a chance one of our secondary conditions will be met with his help?"

Despite her red cheeks and nearly mortified first reaction, her answer was very sober and professional. "Human relationships are nearly as absolute as divine ones," she still had to struggle not to sound like a petulant child "but yes, there is a chance, naturally."

"I think him a good candidate," the Solar opined and Tokio almost fainted "but beware; our first and most important condition must have been met within a year."

"I am aware, divine one; your confidence in me is not misplaced."

"You have proven quite powerful, cleric; and, so far, you have done nothing but commendable deeds. Your ethics match those of our Mistress and your god is one of her most trusted allies; we have faith in you, is what I'm trying to convey."

Her bow was deep and long; the Solar had to pull her up in fact, to stop her. "The heavens look favorably upon you, Lady Tokio of Minkai. Do not betray that trust; only seek to deepen it."

"I will not disappoint you, your Mistress or the Wise one; that is my dearest wish."

"Be well, cleric; we shall meet again after the first condition is met. Have a good and fulfilling life until then."

He disappeared with a slight nod of his head, the final acknowledgment; she watched as he blurred out of reality and most possibly traveled back to his own domain, to speak to his Mistress. Taking a deep breath, the smile faint but certain, she took the first step towards her steed—

"OH DEAR QI ZHONG!"

She jumped out of her skin and grabbed the hilt of her mace upon almost running into the same young man she could not find earlier when she was looking for him. Soujirou, no smile in sight, stood in front of her, eyes downcast.

"You...really are an ally of the heavens..." he mumbled, tear streaks visible on his cheeks.

Taking in this appearance, the grip on her weapon loosened. This boy was fast enough to appear and disappear from one's field of vision easily; if he was going to launch a surprise attack, he already would have, no need to be on alert. Besides, the amount of sheer pain he must be in, judging by his state...!

"I am."

She said it as softly as she could.

"Then I really was a...b...blight...upon this world, huh; they were right. They were all right."

"I wouldn't call you a blight, but you definitely were on the wrong side, yes."

Apparently, the sight of such a divine being stirred something very deep inside him, coupled with whatever Okita might have brought to the surface, he was distraught. When she put her hand on his shoulder, he tensed whole, but fought his instinct to swat her away. When that touch brought her healing power with it and it spread all within him like the cooling breeze of a summer night, the caring touch of a mother, he almost cried again.

"That doesn't mean you cannot right your wrong yourself."

When Soujirou's eyes turned to her, they expressed so much: hate; uncertainty; regret; self-loathing...but more persistent than all, despite its fragility, there was hope, too. And that is exactly was she wanted to see. "More proud and stubborn men than you, eviller in any way imaginable, have managed to change the error of their ways." She held his gaze for a long time, wishing he realised this was nothing impossible, he wasn't beyond help, all he had to do was ask for it. "You simply need a goal and a shepherd; someone to lead by example."

"Someone like you?"

At first he had wanted to sound cruel, unfeeling, sarcastic even; but the moment it left his lips, it transformed into wishful thinking. She nodded. "Yes, Soujirou, exactly like me. If you want me to, I can help you."

"But I nearly killed your friends; and I have hurt _so many_ people; and I still don't think anything hurt more than that moment when I watched that man kill Yumi-san and Shishio-sama is...is still someone I regard in a positive light and...and I..."

He had grabbed his hair, covered his face, almost sinking to the floor. Despair was never easy to deal with nor watch but she wanted to do something about it.

"You can't _erase_ yourself; you have to better yourself. Trying to smother feelings is never a good thing, Soujirou." That seemed to resonate with a layer buried very deep in his psyche because the abrupt but thirsty stare he shot her way, meant much more than he ever meant to give away. "You've been living with them for a long time; if they treated you the way they treat enemies, you would never be so attached, yes?" He nodded as if his life depended on it! "Besides, bad people can sometimes act good; and good people can act bad. Doesn't make them good or bad respectively. A rapist can still be a great dad to someone, right? Same thing; what makes us good is the way we trat those we don't care about, too."

There was a pause in which Soujirou must have been reevaluating his entire being and she gave him all the time she needed. Instead of crowding him though, she walked around him, made sure the dead bodies were secured on the carts and headed to her horse.

"There's plenty of room for you, with us, Soujirou. Come." She gestured towards the Ronin Camp. "If it makes you feel any more inclined to give in, I shall be leaving the country at some point this week, so...fresh start, am I right?"

That was the last straw; his face broke into a natural, self-depreciating smile and started laughing. "Yes! Let's leave the country, Tokio-sama! I will follow you...granted they don't attack me first."

"I'd like to see them try." To his curiosity, she explained "you are under my protection as of this moment and I'm big on second chances. Now hop on, on one of those horses so we can go back already; I'm famished."

"Yes, Tokio-sama!"

"D...don't call me that. Tokio-san is more than enough."

"Nah, I like it...so, where will we be going?"

"We shall talk about this _after_ tonight. First, we'll have to secure your presence there and make sure it's not just the two of us who'll head there and—...just, we'll see."

"As you wish...!" A beat of silence. "So are you and that Hajime guy a couple or something?" She shook her head amused. "And is he coming, too?" This once, she turned just to glare at him. "Oops, taboo subject? Sorry, sorry."

"Somehow, you remind me of Okita," she lamented.

"Oh! How serendipitous; he said the same thing."

A beleaguered sigh escaped her; something in her gut told her this was how it was going to be with him and although she liked how they had found a way of communication already, she could already picture the days ahead. And if it was really just her and him, oh man, it would be difficult.

Another hing that was difficult was to have the men accept him. The empress was one hundred percent uninvolved and couldn't care less, leaving it up to the healer, but the man had something to say about it. What helped was his submissive behaviour and complete lack of response when they called Shishio and Yumi terrible things. Then, Okita stepped forward and gave him the first vote of confidence; it wasn't decided per se, but, knowing he was the one who was mostly hurt because of Soujirou, they allowed him to weigh in on this. So, instead of exiling him from Ronin Camp of right out killing him, they decided to keep him around, present him with some nice clothes and put him under direct watch of all the important players.

He accepted, was handed his own fancy set of clothes and as pushed to some tent to change.

Tokio on the other hand, was received quite differently; cheers, claps, shouts of encouragement were all easily heard, the poem of the Ivory Lady even. Her father put his arms around her again, squeezing her as tight as he could, and Saitou no longer wondered where she got it from.

"Now, now, Tokio-chan, you have to go and pamper yourself," Okita stopped what appeared would turn out to be a very asinine conversation.

"Pardon?"

"Ah, indeed; you came back late, you don't know!" Nagakura agreed, elbowing Harada.

"We shall burnthe dead while you go and have a bath, change out of your armour and put on whatever your father brought you; once you're out, the celebrations will start by you, saying the final prayers for these brave souls and then—it's party time!"

"What Harada means is, after that, we shall be rewarded our dues and then it's party time," Toudou corrected.

"I see." A beat of silence. "Where's Tomo-chan?"

"Getting ready, with her husband's help," Saitou stopped all would be inquiries with his tone and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Go do the same; by the time you are, all preparations will be complete."

The moment he let go, two women popped up out of nowhere, clearly expecting this to happen, and grabbed her by the arm, to lead her to whatever house they had appointed for her convenience. To her bad luck, it was the same one as her highness.

"You will look the prettiest, Tokio-chan," Ameiko teased, watching her get buried underneath layers upon layers "even Yuko-chi will pale in comparison."

"Yuko—she'll be here? Will they _all_ be here?"

"Naturally; not a single absence."

Tokio clicked her tongue, as she held out her hands. "How devoted to their Empress they are."

"Right," she drawled "the only reason they won't miss a party."

They shared a laugh. "Will you make the announcement tonight, Ameiko?"

"What announcement?"

The look Tokio gave her was full of not having it; the Empress chuckled. "Yes, tonight. It's about time."

.

.

When they emerged from the house, there were very little people there; but amongst them was her father, who could not hide his sentiments, upon laying eyes upon her. His breath caught as a hand flew over his heart, to protect it anyway he could. The smile was happy but watery; for an entire minute he was unable to speak. None said anything, they gave him space and time to be the first to comment.

"Honey, you look...just like your mother." His voice broke the exact moment his daughter's eyes watered. "I never expected the resemblance to be so great...you've grown so much, honey, you grew up away from me."

Tears came down her face as soon as she blinked; it hurt to hear him say it, because it was true. It hurt for all the lost time because of the Jade Regent, because of his stubbornness and her own; the mere fact his voice held no grudge, only regret, made her scale the entire distance in a split second, despite all the layers dragging behind her.

As soon as she came, he took her hands in hers. "I'm sorry honey; I should have been there more. I should have listened more. Maybe if I had, your mother and brother would be here today."

"I love you," was all she said in return, "so much."

She untangled her hands and wrapped them around his waist, just like she did when she was a small girl, even if the sleeves were too long not to get wrinkled; pressing her head on his sides, for which she'd no doubt get scolded later by the two women who made the elaborate hairdo.

"I love you, too; and I always will, no matter what you choose for yourself. Just, please, make room for me in this new life of yours." He squeezed back and held her there for a long time. "Please, include me; visit from time to time; or allow me to visit; drop a line. Just, don't disappear again; and I promise, I won't judge your black armour again."

Her sob was heard by all.

"Even if, ask anyone, you look better this way."

A smothered laugh was audible beneath his arm but some seconds later, she stood to her full height properly, and after doing her best to take the moisture away without ruining all the work these two women put into her make up, she smiled her usual wide smile.

"Let's go to the Empress's party together," she declared rather than suggested and her arm snaked around his "even if it is the last one."

" _Because_ it is the last one."

Thusly, the two of them led the rest of the people gathered to the beginning of the ceremonies. Saitou, who dared not walk beside them, contented himself in watching her gracefully fulfilling her duties as the good daughter before she turned over a new leaf in her life. She was a sight to behold either way, as her father aptly pointed out, for she looked incredible: formal, dainty and gorgeous; if the Empress was not one step behind her, one would think the ruler was Tokio. Many layers of complimenting colours, very long sleeves, heavy make-up and intricate hair—a proper festive appearance for any Empress. She would be a fitting ruler, one day. He was sure of that.

" _You_ look satisfied."

His smile was so subtle he never would have realised it was there if it weren't for Himura's smug little comment. Saitou caught him with the edge of his eye, looking grand and serious with Tomoe on his arm, who, because of the pregnancy looked radiant and couldn't believe the pang of jealousy he felt. Swiftly channeling that into superiority, he clicked his tongue.

"No more than you, I am sure."

Tomoe giggled in her hand. "Who would have thought you are so considerate, Saitou-sama."

"Call him that once more and we'll never hear the end of it," Okita "warned", earning himself a few chuckles or snorts.

"Call him that once more and I won't speak to you again for the rest of the night," Kenshin threatened his wife and once that satisfied both Saitou and Tomoe, they spoke no more.

The partying part of the night was a little slow to start. First, Tokio gave the fallen comrades their last farewell; the burning happened by the lake, the part closest to the eastern border. Everything was quiet and nothing was adorned or illuminated. Only small lights lined the streets, small eternal flames cast by wizards, that paved the way for the cleric. After all, no other light was allowed to steal their gazes, other than the one burning the bodies for a safe trip to the afterlife.

Once they were done, they made an entire ceremony out of storing their ashes in small, silver, rectangular containers. Each and every one was named and thanked, as Tokio did the deed alone, kneeling by each person's bonfire. The containers were given to three men, who proceeded to store them away.

Then, came the rewards for every man – and the one woman – . For that, they moved to the town square, this huge procession of theirs, only now it was her Majesty leading. Once they set foot there, no one failed to notice the transformation: banners put up all around in various colours and textures, supported only by magic, made the outside look like the inside. There was a small stage set up where the award ceremony would take place; on it, was one small desk with all the contracts. On the left of the stage were the stairs and on the right was a much longer and bigger table, almost half as long as the entire square, covered by a cloth, that gave off tantalizing smells. Servants with pitchers of alcohol and empty glasses were placed everywhere and the moment the guests arrived, poured them drinks.

There were fairy lights all around them, too, while soft music played by bards, nearly hidden by the stage. But what was the most impressive part of all, if you asked any man, were the ten well-dressed, impeccably poised and flawlessly smiling ladies of waiting of her Majesty, ready to be entertained.

Then the Empress, Kojuuro and Damien got on the stage and began the affair; the awards had to be read out loud by her Highness, signed by her father on the paper of the procedures and then given to each personally by the treasurer.

That took a while.

But after that, it was all fun! Especially when, just before free time was declared, the Empress gathered everyone around, guests and organizers all the same and announced, as casually as possible:

"Forgive me, Ronin, but I shall not consume your own special brand of sake. Though I have heard great things about its taste and I am also aware it is your main source of income; I will not be sampling it either. What I will do, however, is take at least one bottle with me, to try it when I am able...which is, after I give birth to the heir growing inside me for the past month and a half."

There was a collective holding of breath.

"Yes, you heard right; gods' willing, in eight months from now at most, the heir to the throne will enter this world!"

The crowd went wild; everyone started shouting one wish after another, glasses raised at their Empress, hoping only for the best. Then, she stopped them all by raising her glass in response, drinking all of her tea at once and announcing: "Now let the dances commence!"

The bards came out of "hiding" and flooded the square, music bombarding everyone's senses; the piece of cloth was magically yanked off the table and an array of mouth-watering goods revealed itself to the attendees. At the same time, the ten women literally screeched and ran to her highness to wish her all the best, creating the live that everyone would have to wait at to do just the same.

Seeing Tokio was aware of the fact, she decided to make a summary out of her own well-wishes, right before the flock arrived and kindly took her leave...as easily as she found a certain tall samurai in the crowd and positioned herself next to him.

"Hajime."

"Tokio," he greeted her, trying not to look too happy she went to him as soon as she was able.

"So, your mother was short, too." She tried not to laugh too obviously because she feared she'd start crying again, so she simply hid her face in her sleeve. "You look very beautiful," he conceded in the end, taking the time to remove her hand from her face "and if your mother was here, she'd look just as proud of your accomplishments as your father."

"Thank you, Hajime." There was an unguarded honesty about her that always made him put his own guard down. "I appreciate that." She bowed a little but then got herself a drink from one of the servants. "You look quite fetching yourself."

"I was lucky; I had first pick. Hijikata resents me for it."

They shared a laugh and after that, there was a lull of silence. Both were content just with sipping their drink next to one another, standing close, closer than normal—or proper, and maybe steal glances at each other's controlled grin. Then friends came and talked; they left; more people came by, her father included; they talked again and again, but once more, they were gone, yet these two remained just there.

But, for the past ten minutes, Tokio had taken to doing one more thing: furtively glancing at the dancing couples, who had taken the square by storm! The ones who weren't dancing were those without a pair. Even her father dared to do so, after asking a local woman – that Tokio thought looked a lot like her mother if you added five kilos and added twenty years –. Only Kenshin was standing by his wife's side, who was occupying one of the few seats, them and her highness.

"Let's dance, Hajime," she finally had the courage to suggest, as she finished her drink.

"I don't like it," he coolly replied, a small guilty smile playing on his lips.

He was a smart man, he had figured it out. She couldn't stop staring at him, the dancing crowds and him again. He only felt guilty he would have to turn her down because Saitou Hajime? He didn't dance. He only did once and that was on his wedding day, many years ago.

"Mmm, it'll be fun."

"It won't be when I step all over your feet; and your kimono is too elaborate. We'll both fall down."

"No, we won't," she contradicted, lips pursing.

"Be as stubborn as you want; I'm not going to engage in any sort of dancing. You're better off asking someone else."

"But I don't want to dance with someone else."

Ah, damn, she was being cute; he almost said yes. Almost. "As flattering as that is, I'm sorry; I really dislike dancing; I dislike everything I'm not good at."

Time passed; people kept dancing. She had to try again. And again. And again. Each and every time she was refused. Each and every time, she came back. In the end, after exhausting all of her other possibilities, she puffed up her cheeks and gave him the puppy look.

"Do it for me?"

His lips twitched and he nearly lost by smiling. "Not for anyone."

"Not even for your Empress?"

Ameiko butted in the conversation out of nowhere. Both turned to look at her either surprised or, in Saitou's case, mortified and gave a small hasty bow. "Your highness should not engage in such activities with a baby on the way."

"I won't dance too much; only a couple of turns. Come now, Hajime-san, what say you? Will you take your Empress's hand to twirl her around for a couple of turns? Will you do me this one, innocent little favour?"

He raised his hands in defense. "You won't do your Empress this one, tiny little favour? Even as I am standing here, pregnant, begging for my first dance?"

Goddamn it! What could he say to that? He bowed, put his glass on the table and offered his hand to her Majesty. Looking at Tokio one final time before he left, to make sure she wasn't about to kill him – thank Shizuru, the murderous glare was directed towards Ameiko – he led her to the dance floor.

As the took their first turn around the square, he sighed; no longer able to keep it in, he finally asked "why me? Isn't Hijikata the better choice?"

"In the absence of my child's father, I always choose the tallest man; he reminds me of him the most."

"So he's tall."

"That he is."

"You're only making trouble for me, your Highness."

"Then all the more reason to choose you. Tokio looks very beautiful today; let _her_ be the one tasting the bitterness of jealousy for a while."

Just as Saitou thought the two first sentences were unrelated, a chuckle escaped him. "Does that mean I should let her suffer for my sake...or yours, your highness?"

Her own laugh was boisterous and unreserved. "Both; I hate it when they steal my thunder. And I bet you hate it when all men's eyes are on her."

His eyes slid away from her. "I admit to nothing."

"That is indeed the perfect strategy: keep silent until they are too tired to disprove you."

Nothing was said after that, simply kept dancing. It wasn't too long later that Hajime decided it was time to go back to his spot next to Tokio and the buffet table; satisfied, the Empress allowed him to do so with a small nod but he was courteous enough to at least accompany her to her own spot, up on the stage, where a mock throne had replaced the table with the scrolls.

When he tried to go back to Tokio, six of the ten ladies in waiting of her highness came out of nowhere! They surrounded and immobilized him, some three metres away from his destination. Unsurprisingly, all wanted to dance with him; if the Empress did, they would do.

"Forgive me, but I do not enjoy dancing."

"Aww, but you danced with Ameiko-sama." and other variations of that sentence flew out of their mouths but he really wasn't going to be swayed. He had an impression, if he so much as dared take one of their hands, just to be polite, something terrible would happen to him—and when he turned to actually look at Tokio, yes, there it was. She was pretending not to look but damn it, he felt a shiver crawl down his spine every single time she would "accidentally" glance his way. Mind quickly made up, he bowed deeply to them, earning considerable space for himself and just like that, he slipped away and restored his presence next to her.

"Hmmm, her highness is such a good dancer," Tokio commented lightheartedly, "nearly two months pregnant yet still so light on her feet."

Was that her way of letting him know she'd been watching him? Because he knew, damn, she didn't have to be so extra creepy about it.

"Must have had fun..."

Ah, this is where it all led. He shook his head; she was very stubborn. "Not really; I don't like dancing." Her hum of approval was long but soft. Then she took a sip of her drink. Then nothing. Considering most of their night so far had been like this, he wouldn't have minded, but he felt something like a buzz coming from her, she was upset. "How spoiled you are, priestess," he begun, "you are still holding it against me I wont dance with you." Like a child, she pursed her lips and looked away. He sighed. "Fine;" he offered his hand "let's dance."

"No." He stared incredulous. "I don't want to."

"What? But I thought..."

"I wanted to dance with you first; now that her Highness received that honour instead of me, I don't care."

"But I thought you liked dancing."

"Yes, but if it was simply a matter of that, I would have danced with someone else."

"Fair enough; and since I did dance with someone else, I'm asking you now, too because I see for some unfathomable reason this seems to matter to you a lot."

"Well, I don't want to now because I won't be the first one."

His chuckle escaped before he could stop. "So?"

"If you were going to be swayed so easily then why didn't you dance with me first?"

He could no longer help the laugh; Tokio almost seethed at him, though not quite angry. "She's the Empress; and she's pregnant. You can't say no to that combination..."

"Otherwise you wouldn't have danced with her?"

"Why is this such a big deal?"

"I don't know," she crossed her hands "it somehow is. Feels like I lost to her."

"Don't put me in the middle of your little ego schemes; now for the last time, will you dance with me or not? Final offer."

" _No_ , I don't feel like it." He sighed. "If you suddenly want to dance so much, go dance with one of the woman who accosted you before."

He snorted. "Do I look like an idiot?"

Finally, a laugh. Maybe a little smothered and unwittingly given, but she laughed; success. "This is nice, too, but...when people dance are less likely to eavesdrop on conversations so..."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but dancing is not ideal for conversing."

"These ceremonial dances? Please! They are ideal. Now, if we were in Sandpoint, I'd say, yeah, it's too hectic..."

His brows came together. "I don't like it when you so casually talk of these foreign places I've never been to."

He had no idea what he said wrong but that seemed to upset her. Not anger her, but she was somehow unsettled; her chest heaved, she became evasive. She even put her hands in her sleeves, tugging on them. She must have been experiencing a dilemma because each and every time she opened her mouth, she closed it again. One deep breath, words died on her lips, she exhaled; repeat. After it happened one too many times, she finally decided to let it go. A small bracing breath later, she positioned herself as the perfect lady and looked at him with some taste of regret.

"Then I won't do it again."

"I'm guessing you mean tonight, because there's no way you can stop doing that. Ever."

Her smile was terse; he was taken aback.

For the next hour, he watched her slowly but certainly, distance herself from him, the celebration and even the Empress. Until, in the end, she disappeared completely. No, she didn't do it with her magic; she did it with her ability to become one with the background in grand celebrations like these and when the fireworks were at their brightest, offering release and beauty to all, she retired to her designated room. Granted, in such occasions, usually the fireworks signaled the polite time to leave: right after they ended. But there did exist protocol and one had to go and say one final goodbye to their hosts, thank the bards, the servants...she simply left.

He found Okita in the crowd with a quick scan and nodded towards her; Okita, understanding his intentions, gave him a thumbs up in return.

Troubled, Saitou followed after her; thank Shizuru for his quick feet and her impressive gown that he could catch the coattails of that rare indigo pigment. He caught up with her easily, but decided the best tactic for someone running away from their problems was to give them space thus did not call out to her or even physically stopped her. What he did do though was watch her scurry inside the house they gave her, shutting the door behind her.

What's gotten into her? He gave her some time and then he knocked on the door. "Tokio, it's me."

"Come in."

"Did something happen at the-...?" He barely had time to close the door behind him, he felt her crush into his chest. "Are you alright?"

"No; yes but...no."

"So helpful."

"Shut up, I...I'm sorry I overreacted before but I really needed to talk to you and I didn't know when or how and..."

She took a long, calming breath. Hands still on his chest, she looked up at him and he was upset to find tears on her face. "When I was in the capital, I never danced with anyone at these parties. See, if I did then dad would think I might be interested and the man would think the same and then rumours would fly around and before I knew it, our families would start "the talks" and I'd have to decline a lot of invitations for no reasons and, undoubtedly, some wedding proposal, too. So, I never went into the trouble. But now, we are not in the capital. Sure, father is here but you aren't the spoiled son of some rich aristocrat who thinks the world owes him for existing, so, I wished, just this once to...dance with someone. First."

"I see."

"Also, I wanted to tell you some things, too but with everything that happened today—and how abruptly Ameiko showed up," she exhaled a little annoyed "I didn't even have the time to kiss you properly."

"That is true; everything happened a little too fast." She nodded, calm now, tears no longer in her eyes, only her cheeks. He put his arms on her waist. "Lucky for you, we are alone now." She nodded as her arms slithered from his chest around his neck. "You can kiss me as much as you want."

And kiss him she did; before his sentence was complete, she climbed on her tiptoes, brought him down for the remaining distance and crushed her lips on his with abandon.

"I don't have to do _all_ the kissing, you know," she complained about a minute or so after and he decided he tortured her enough, might as well.

But it was an empty house they were in together and no one around for a long way; fireworks occasionally lit the sky outside still, while too distant voices of people making merry never came close. It took only one kiss; once that kiss transformed into something more, into something _deeper_ , there was no turning back.

Suddenly there was a hunger that hadn't been there for so long and it came back with all the ferocity it was denied and it demanded to be satiated. Her skin was rough, but soft wherever he touched, peeling layer after layer; her neck tasted of flowers, but her breasts tasted of honey. Her touch, light but firm; her scratches red and angry on his skin. She lay there beneath him, on top of all the fabrics; then she pulled him down, trading his spot for hers with two moves. He watched as her back arched, as her sweat glistened; grabbed her waist when she almost lost her balance and fell back.

She mumbled an apology and how she'd never done this before and he was mortified to hear because she should have told him from the start, but other than that, it was no big deal. He lay her on her back, carefully, and asked her to let herself relax. No one was born knowing. She did only once his hands touched her again, only this once, he was very gentle...and slow. And tortuously slow—did he have to linger? Why did he linger everywhere, it wasn't fair. And then his mouth found her neck again and then her shoulders and her breasts and—oh gods, this was very different from before indeed. Not that before was bad, anything but, but this was better for now; she felt like she needed more experience for that other—oh GOD, it felt good. It felt really good, really good, really good, yes, oh yes, yes YES...! Yes...

She deflated and felt like shrinking. For all her fears and insecurities, this felt nothing like they warned her it would; no pain, at least not even the third of pain compared to the _bliss._ And no shame; no residual feelings of being dirty or somehow lesser.

So maybe she was right after all; their society comprised of spiteful, prude bastards.

"Hajime, you know I have to leave, yes?"

They were lying naked on the floor, over their many layers that served as protection from the cold; she had to actually untangle herself from him and support herself on her elbows to tell him that, as serious as possible.

A crooked smile appeared. "I figured you didn't want to insult her majesty and accepted the titles of the land offered to you for appearances, yes."

"That will happen in three days from now, once the festivities die down and I gather all of my belongings from Seinaru."

"I am aware."

"Soujirou will come with me." That was news to him. "Different country, better fresh start; the less people who knew what he was, the easier for him to face his demons and be victorious. Once he's done that, he'll be able to return, I believe."

"Makes sense, actually..."

"It was Soujirou who asked me, actually, on this journey of ours if you'd—...I mean, I know the Shinsengumi is your life and you were just given all you ever wanted, but...if, if there was a chance that..."

She was sitting up now, flustered but determined. Yet, she started looking away from him and missed his amused grin. "What could you possibly mean?" he asked to tease her, but she became redder still.

"I know it's difficult for you to accept but if there was a chance, if it was prearranged that—would you consider—?"

"Tokio," he grabbed her hands to stop her and that's exactly what happened "you're making no sense. Put your thoughts in order and ask me again."

"I love you. And I don't want to leave you. But I can't stay either. So, I was wondering, if we somehow arranged something for your own lands back here, then maybe, I don't know, you could come with me, too?"

"So, you're asking me to leave the unit behind, my newly appointed lands behind, and follow you into the unknown?"

"Yes," though he didn't have to say it so...basely.

But a chuckle came out as an answer instead and he started shaking his head; from his demeanor, she knew she wasn't making fun of the fact she asked, or what she asked of, but the way she...phrased it?

"Tokio, you are a terrible negotiator when it comes to matters such as these."

"H-H-Hajime, I—"

"A week ago me and some men were discussing leadership and skills; many of them confided in me, they were very impressed by you, in general. How you'd make an excellent ruler...and I had an idea. When I talked to Hijikata, I asked him to allow us to form a small splinter group and come with you, when you decided to leave." Her mouth hang open. "He said, you could take fifteen men in total with you but only volunteers , you can't pick them, and just one captain. Me, namely, because Okita wanted to come and he prohibited it." Her hands covered her mouth and she kept staring at him disbelievingly. "I presented the idea to those men we were having the conversation with and they all accepted; Daichi, from my unit, Sousuke from Okita's and Tooru and Sachi from Nagakura's; the rest ten are the entire unit Takeda left in your care."

"Are you...are you serious?

He nodded. "Soujirou is coming, too so I guess, we're sixteen now. But there's a catch; until you succeed, you are bound to the Shinsengumi, to help us—them, whatever. Just make ten of those beads you had made for the Empress and give them to him. In case of dire need, you'll be summoned. Unless engaged in battle yourself, you are required to come."

"That is an exceptionally good deal...!"

"I know."

She smacked his chest. "Don't be conceited; I was trying to pay you a compliment."

"I'm not trying to be conceited; I'm just showing you I put a lot of thought into this, because it's important for me."

"I see," she recounted, and with a small smile she planted a small kiss on his forehead.

"So, everything is decided; so long as I return the title of the land they gave me back, and you all the titles back, we are ready to go the day after tomorrow."

"Wait, wait, wait, why _all_ titles? You get to keep your lordship and I don't?"

"But, Tokio," he started as if she was crazy for thinking otherwise "you, more than I, know how crazy the bureaucracy for two heads of families to get married is; it almost makes it not worth it."

"P-pardon?" He kept looking at her the same way despite her confusion. "Are, wait, you are asking me to marry you?"

"...oh, yeah, sorry; I never mentioned that. Yes, marry me." For the second time that day, she was left speechless. "You've seen me at my worst and yet, look at you, you're still here; and it will only get better. Sure, we'll fight a lot, you are very stubborn and I am absolute, but everyone fights. And I am not a child; I know exactly what I want. Do you?"

The more he spoke, the more she reminded him of the almost identical conversation they had yesterday night, even if it felt like a lifetime ago. So, he wasn't saying that to sound mature... "I thought I did, but then you came along. You've altered many of my plans."

"If by that you mean I had to change my entire living arrangement to follow you, sure." She smacked his chest again. "If you're still bitter about your title, then believe it, it's better if I have the title; if we go over to Chu Ye and you succeed then it's better if you are only married to someone with a title rather than having a title yourself—especially if it's someone like me, who was given the title as compensation for battle services. Less questions as to why you would make the trip."

"No, it's an entirely different matter I am concerned about."

"Which is?"

She took a bracing breath. "No children."

Ah, she was right to mention it; his eyes became wide and he almost stood. Instead, he sat up next to her. "No children?" She nodded. " _Ever_?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, not ever; but for the first...five years," she made up her mind after some quick calculations "no children."

"That seems reasonable; there will be battles, contention, rivalries, hate...three years is a good estimate."

"Five."

He had no idea what she was talking about. "Yes, that's what I said; three years."

"Five."

"Yes, three."

"Hajime."

"Tokio."

She laughed at the way he wouldn't budge. "Fine; four."

"Four years; great." Before he lay back down, he gathered his hakama and put it on but before he fell back on the floor, he considered. "There _must_ be a bed somewhere in this house," he spoke out loud "even if we don't know where it is."

"Second room to the left," she nodded to said sliding door "door opposite that leads to the bath."

"I see." She followed his example. "Leave them," he complained when she started gathering _every_ single piece of clothing from the floor "we'll put them away tomorrow. Just put one on and let's go to sleep...I am...very tired."

"Well, you did dance with her highness—hahaha, Hajime, don't." She jumped to the left, just a bit out of his reach, to dodge his slap, right on her butt. "You did though."

"Yes, for three minutes, oh gods." He shook his head but let her go first. "Just, don't wake me up; we'll have a million things to do tomorrow."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, right, you weren't here...while you were doing your thing at the battlefield, I asked your father, should you be willing, if he would allow me to have your hand in marriage. He said yes. Ameiko-sama overheard us and she immediately said how she wanted to be the one to officiate, should you accept. Then more people gathered, Tomoe asked to provide the sake, Okita asked to be my witness and it wall went a little out of hand."

"Are you kidding?"

"Nope; and since you said yes, I have the feeling we'll wake up to see most of the preparations done. Not to mention, your father started going on about how it'll be very easy to have your immediate family present, as well as mine, even if I was disowned, and before I knew it, it snowballed into how we need to get married tomorrow, if we were going leave in two days anyway." He shrugged. "I think your father was just thrilled he would get to be here for your wedding."

"Yes, we are very close but at the same nearly as close as he thinks we should be, so..."

"Makes sense," Hajime defended him, just as they lay on their futon – which was for only one person so they would have to sleep one over the other to fit, not that he minded – "sons are supposed to wander the world while daughters stay close to home until they get married."

"I hope to the entire pantheon we don't have a daughter."

"Shut up," he snubbed "and stop squirming."

"But to think that we only slept together once and you are already asking me to marry you..."

"Tokio...!"

"So prudish." He groaned; she smothered a laugh. "Goodnight, Hajime."

" _Goodnight_."

.

.

She kept her word; Tokio wasn't the one who woke him up...but he didn't wake up on his own either. Voices of people right outside his window did, as well as knocks on the door. His eyes cracked open, to notice two things: it was bright outside, thus late and there was no Tokio in his arms. She must have rushed to let whoever was in, actually, because the knocking was heard only once and then a moment later he heard the door sliding open.

He was right; her voice was heard, light and fresh and welcomed...Himura and his wife. Shit, are they serious? Ugh, no way. He pulled the blanket over his head and groaned.

"How come you're here?" he heard her ask after all the formalities.

"Your father asked us to come; he wants me to take Saitou to him, to get him dressed, while Tomoe will help you get into the wedding kimono."

Ugh, he had to get up now? Damn...he looked to the side and spied clothes that were much simpler than that extravagant thing he wore yesterday, plain and dark, as he liked it. He had half a mind to emerge in his hakama only, just to make Himura uncomfortable, but his wife wasn't at fault.

So, he'd get properly dressed and then go greet them.

"The wedding kimono hasn't arrived yet," Tokio noted.

"It's on its way."

"Four women carrying it; they shall help me putting it on you, too."

"Five people for one gown?" Himura summarized in shock. "How big is it?"

He could swear he heard Himura's wife giggle. "That's how all of them are, at least when a woman of such station and importance is getting married. Depending on length, it is either carried by three or five women; this one is...on the normal side of things."

"But it's all white; how many layers can there be?"

"Actually, it isn't," Tomoe was eager to share "but I hesitate to share more details for Saitou-san is still here."

"Ah, yes, please don't tell me the extra colours," his voice was heard first and then he appeared at the threshold, finishing the tie on his obi "otherwise my overactive brain will immediately piece together the look of the entire kimono and I will ruin the surprise."

Tokio hit him with the back of her hand before she even said good day because "really, Hajime, you don't have to be so rude to guests so early in the morning."

"This ain't my house; I'm a guest, too. I can be as rude as I like." She disapproved, but still offered her cheek for a kiss; he obliged. "Aren't _they_ the hosts, if anything? I thought Himura was like the lord of Ronin Camp. Now that her Highness visited this place and offered a formal piece of paper to him, he's basically one of the court's lords."

Kenshin obviously didn't like that, he knew; not just because he averted his eyes and his chest puffed up, as if wanting to contradict him, but mainly because of the fact he didn't. "Here, in the fringe of the Empire, closest to the horse lords, she found—"

"Enough of politics after you just woke up; have some tea, go for a walk first," Tokio reprimanded him and he actually laughed.

"But I thought I had to go with Himura."

"That is true," Tokio relented "you have to do that." She combed his hair back with her fingers quite hastily. "Please don't be late, in fact; father is quite pedantic."

"I managed to make a good impression so far," he teased and waited till she was satisfied with his look to step back and nod to Himura to follow him. But he did like she worried about it and his smirk made it obvious. Annoyed by that earlier comment and how everything pretty much went his way, Himura clicked his tongue.

"We'll see how good of an impression you'll keep making when we tell him where we found you," he snubbed just before the door slid closed behind them, causing the two women inside to giggle.

"I am sure it will have no bearing," Tomoe tried to be nice, but Tokio didn't even care.

"I am pretty sure my father thought I was interested in women; the fact his hopes of cute grandchildren aren't just a dream anymore is enough to override the fact he knows we slept together."

Tomoe's giggle set the mood; once the women came in, with the gown, the six of them were all laughs, double entendres and tea. By the time they were finished, Tokio looked nothing like herself, she decided, for the many layers of white-red-white-red-white with small patterns of red on the final layer were definitely not her style. She focused on functionality and she could hardly walk fast in this. It was too tight, took too much space, the bow was huge, many things dangled and could easily be grabbed in case of a surprise attack, she had no room to carry her ingredients' pouch, no place to hide a dagger – huh, maybe the hair, so many pins and little or big things they had – and they _almost_ yanked her magic headband off of her head because it wouldn't match. At least she had her deity's holy symbol around her neck...at least. Oh, and that huge diamond ring that could easily cover a high-caliber spell's material components. That's something.

But all of that didn't matter to her a lick when her father, with the same tears as yesterday informed her this was the very same kimono her own mother wore at their wedding that her older sister purposefully left for her to wear, as a thanks and a sorry for all the things she couldn't do as the older one.

"Then it's perfect," she simply said and took her father's hand who led her to the ceremony.

She had to admit, they put a lot of effort into this; the entire path to their destination was paved with beautiful, white and red flowers, same with the ones she was holding. Lanterns of white rice paper with the kanji for "eternity" in red were placed on the bridges and wherever the architecture called for it, without really being lit. and of course, on every tree they passed by, there were red and white ribbons tied on the bare branches, as if to make up for the leaves they lost.

The itself wedding was going to be held in the sole holy place the Ronin Camp had to offer, a temple of Cayden Cailean, Desna and Kofusachi, all in one. Heh, of course, all chaotic good deities...and the irony of the most lawful and rule-oriented man she ever met getting married under the province of a chaotic force, by _Ameiko's hand_ who herself used to be quite fond of rule-breaking, made her smile even wider. Because it was all for her, she knew. If it was up to him, she'd wait an entire month, per custom—very old, but still alive custom.

Ah, there he was. Standing in front of her highness, who donned a simple kimono – at least for her standards – with the sake on a table behind her, he was waiting for her to appear, serious but calmer than she had ever seen him. She held his gaze for a long second before her eyes swept the crowd; there were two very distinct sides: hers and his and all the rest behind them. His was on the right and even if she had never seen them before, yes, she would have guessed; he was a spitting image of their father! That same stern brow, same frown, too...his mother was a woman she decided radiated with kindness while his brother was the perfect mix of their mother and father; the sister was very tall and very beautiful; the sister and brother in law seemed to compliment the siblings perfectly. There were three children, too, how nice of them.

On her side, there was her older sister with her husband. She was as gorgeous as usual, and Takeru, her brother in law, always graceful and serious. Her little sister had come without her fiance, she was guessing he must have been traveling...but what she saw in her little sister's lap almost made her cry. A beautiful, ceremonial, all too familiar sword sat there, looking as polished as the very first time it was given to her brother for his exceptional skills. As the first time he wore it on his belt; and the second and the third and every single time, because her brother would polish that sword daily. With the small addition of a ribbon at the edge of the hilt of black and red colour – that undoubtedly her sister put there – it made her skin crawl.

Then she shivered but for an entirely different reason; she remembered how it felt being hugged by their mother, wearing this kimono: tight, a little smothering, but always warm and protected. A gust of wind moved branches, fabrics and hair...today was a very warm day, for being so late in winter. Even this wind wasn't as cold as it was supposed to. She also remembered how her mother's favourite season, her brother's too, was autumn and suddenly the urge to cry disappeared. She savoured the feeling of it and then turned to her father imperceptibly.

"Mother approves of this wedding," she whispered, as they moved through the rows of people. She tried to ignore Okita and his beaming face in fear she'd burst out laughing.

"Hm? You mean she'd like Hajime? I think so, too. He's most amusing."

"No, father; I means she does like him. Her and brother, too." Kojuuro turned to look at her confused. "She's all around us, you know. They both are. Though, I don't think we're going to see them again. So, smile as wide as you can and hand me over to the groom with pride."

Her father said nothing, because he didn't want to be heard whimpering. Tokio had lied to him, of course, no one was there, but had no regrets. Their actual spirits might not have been there, watching over them, but that was what nature was implying and who was she to disregard the gods' choice of communication with her?

Taking a final look around, she saw the faces of people she didn't even know six months prior, but now cared for; the faces of her friends; of old and new; but most importantly, of family, either alive...or dead.

They were all there.

With a final smile to the skies, she stepped onto the shrine and next to Hajime. Today, Takagi Tokio became Saitou Tokio. One of the few conquests, she hoped.

* * *

 **A/N** : I don't believe I actually included the wedding this once! Or, at the very least, the road to the wedding. Well, the rest is boring anyway, am I right?

This is the part where I ask you to review, fave, alert or whatever your cup of tea is, do it; it means the world. Hope next installment catches your eye and finds you in better spirits than now.

Love you all,  
FAI~!


	14. Valentine's Night

**A/N** : Heeeeey peeps! How have you been, little cuties? I've been doing great! Also, this got stuck in my head and I needed to get it out. This is a very short story, a new small AU that I had to write because it was seasonal, like, a week or two ago. But never mind, have at it.

Big thanks to all of you wonderful people who reviewed, faved or followed, by the way, I love you all, you keep my spirits way up. So, have a go at it! Hope you like it my lovelies.

 **Title** : Valentine's Night  
 **Genre** : Romance, a little Angst  
 **Alternative Universe** : Modern Day

* * *

The door of the bar opened and in walked the tall figure of a familiar person. Despite it being at full capacity, everyone was seated so the bartender could easily spot and be spotted by people; the new arrival waved at him and then proceeded to give a quick sweeping look across the business to spot the people he was looking for. Although he found it odd they weren't sitting at that cozy corner under the window, he pressed on further in, only to find them seated at a large table...accompanied by five women.

Ah. So that's how it was.

Actually, they were facing them, man sitting opposite woman, save one who was unpaired and looking off to the side, disinterested. Internally something kicked and advised him to get out of there immediately. Four men, five women and he just arrived? This was a collective date night, a collective _first_ date night and they put him right in the middle of it, not only without asking, but with deception. He had half a mind to go there, show his face and walk away, but then again, that type of drama didn't suit him. He'd either turn around and leave now or go there and shut up about it.

But the bartender had already seen him and even actually gave him a thumbs up; the barmaid had, too and gave a large smile, a wink and whispered "I'll get you your regular as soon as you sit" in passing as she delivered another order. Damn. He couldn't leave now. His pride wouldn't allow it. So, begrudgingly, he made his way to their table.

Toudou's green eyes caught him first; he immediately waved at him, quite exuberant, drawing everyone else's attention. The whole works began and he _hated_ how everyone, not just his friends, but the women started whispering between themselves, too. Uuuuuugh, this was going to be a long, long night.

Per usual, it was Okita who rushed to the meet and greet portion of the night; the moment he came close enough, the shortest man sprang up and exclaimed in his usual, upbeat tone: "you finally showed up! We started worrying you buried yourself under a pile of paperwork bigger than yourself."

But before he even put one word in edgewise, the man laughed, hitting him on the back as he turned to the small crowd. "This is the last member of the party, Saitou Hajime; Saitou, these are the lovely ladies who are keeping us company:" he started the introductions from the one furthest away from him, sitting in front of the only man wearing glasses or had curly hair, Nagakura Shinpachi "Aya-chan, Umi-chan, Sa-chan, Yuu-chan and Tokio-chan."

Although he nodded each time a name was mentioned, it was obvious something irked him and the women realised as much as the men, who became a little awkward. Trying to be less of a dick to them, he decided to address his issue.

"Now, if you could all tell me your proper names, it'd be great, because there's no way I'm calling you any of what just came out of his mouth."

Cue the polite laughs from the women.

"I'm Tokio," the one who was supposed to be his date for the evening, the disinterested one, said through actual chuckles "this is Yuko, Sachi, Umeko and Ayame; these two are sisters," she pointed to the two last ones and, to be honest, he would have guessed; they were identical: same shade of dark brown for the hair, the eyes, same features...only the length of hair changed, first had them long, second had a very strict androgynous haircut. Well, that and fashion sense, he supposed; Ayame sported a nice form-fitting dress while Umeko wore what appeared to be a suit.

He gave a curt bow in the end, but a bow nonetheless and proceeded to sit opposite Tokio. "I'm sorry I'm late, but I had to finish up the paperwork for a case we just closed; the case itself was difficult, too and that makes everything harder."

"The same paperwork I drafted and left on your office to go over tomorrow together, I presume," Okita teased.

"The very same."

This once, all of the men laughed. "He's the type of person you call a perfectionist," Harada Sanosuke, the only red-head, blue eyed man commented with a smirk; he was stocky and had a pleasing face, features betraying a mixed heritage. "He would micromanage every single case he has ever worked on, if he could."

"My, oh my," Yuko intervened, flicking her dyed blond hair "one might even say you mistrust other people's work."

"Ah, not at all; Saitou-san and I have been partners since we started working as detectives but we knew each other from the academy! We both know what the other is capable of."

"Maybe he's just a completionist," Sachi threw her comment out there, obviously uncaring but very focused on Toudou's beautiful eyes.

"Or, just as I mentioned," Harada spoke again "he's a perfectionist."

"Or _maybe_ ," Tokio started off innocently enough "he too didn't want to come here but his friends pestered him too much about it, thus he was inescapably late and probably left the other task unfinished."

Everyone at the table fell silent just to stare at her. Her friends were mortified; the men were honestly scared her friends would believe her and that would be the worst possible scenario for them because, damn, Tokio was astute, she hit the nail right on the head...! A disbelieving snort of laughter came out of Saitou's mouth and he shook his head.

"Or that...who knows..." And did she say "too"? Was she made to come, too?

"Le, let's not talk nonsense," Ayame rushed to salvage the situation "I'm sure Saitou-san isn't here by force."

"What _I_ want to know is what this case of yours was about?"

"Oh come on, Umi-chan," Okita protested in a microsecond "you don't want to hear about work, do you?"

"Ah, that's right," Sachi helped out her friend "you are partners; tell us of your case, Saitou-san, Okita-san!"

"Sachi," Tokio drawled then, a little worn out "you really don't want to talk about blood, gore and murder on a day like this, right?" The look she gave her friends was all meaning. "Just lay back, drink your wine, relax..."

She really wanted to have no part in their conversation but the things her friends said were ridiculous sometimes; and yet, it wasn't the looks her friends gave her, scandalised or slighted, but the men's that caused her to feel a little self-conscious, despite looking mildly impressed. "What?" Her eyes went from Nagakura to Saitou repeatedly. "You guys are homicide, right?"

"H, how did you know?" Toudou asked.

"Well, you said your first case was what turned out to be a scandal with a politician's son about two years ago and cases such as these, take a lot of time; besides, the scandal of the Shigure family was the only one to come out in recent years."

"How astute of you, Tokio-san," Toudou commented "you are correct, too."

She gestured, palms facing upwards as if it was only natural she'd get it; Okita found it very amusing. "And what is it that you do for a living, Tokio-chan? Hopefully something that makes use of that intellect I hope."

"I'm a pastry chef."

Okita's eyes grew too large, Harada's following suit. "And you aren't working _on valentine's day_? Just how?"

"The boss knows I hate today, so spares me; I only do prep work." The girls giggled at that, but none of the men knew why but seeing it was a collective thing, they figured it was an inside joke.

But something didn't sit right with Toudou. "Why would you hate valentine's day?"

She shrugged. "I hated how everyone just expected me to give them chocolates because I was good at making them; or how I am supposed to like it because I'm a woman; or how it's become an excuse for couples to show off their supposed love that only lasts as long as the celebrations do; or—..." She noticed the mortified looks her friends gave her; the upset expressions on the men's faces; she coughed. "I just don't like it."

"Then why even come here," came Nagakura's natural, yet mighty perplexed inquiry.

She avoided looking at any person of her company. "Maybe, just maybe, I was lured out here with the promise of food, drink and a fun girls' night out..."

"Huh," the four of the five detectives did at the same time and proceeded to look at each other. There must have been an entire non-verbal conversation going on between them, maybe a little panicked and a little guilty. Whatever it was, it made Saitou sigh heavily.

"Tokio-chan," Okita started and he had leaned forward, hands on his legs "do you not want to be here?"

Ah, shit; she didn't want to make anyone feel bad. The way the men and her friends exchanged looks caused her to close her mouth before she made any sort of sound.

"This is so stupid," Harada stated and shook his head. "We dragged Saitou out here with false pretenses, too but we thought you actually—and—I just..."

"We are very sorry, Tokio-san," Toudou inclined his head "for ruining your night; you, too Saitou. We didn't have to guilt you into coming here."

The look he shot the lot of them was lethal; Tokio simply shook her head.

"But, guys, this is perfect." Umeko came to the rescue. "Since they both don't want to be here but they are both, well, out here, why don't we break off?" They were all curious to see where she was going with this. "We stay here, but Saitou-san and Tokio-chan can go have a drink somewhere alone in a less...um..."

She was looking for a word but it was just out of her reach; Ayame decided to help. "Pink?"

"Yes! In a not-so-pink venue, where no assumptions are made..."

Saitou's eyes returned to Tokio; the two strangers simply sat there, looking at one another for a long time. Everyone seemed to like the idea and encouraged them to take that course of action, but it wasn't until Tokio finally shrugged, accepting her fate that everyone cheered for their friends.

"I don't see why not; I was promised food and drink and so far have only gotten the former."

"I have gotten neither, you have no right to complain."

A disbelieving snort of laughter escaped her. "Are we comparing miseries? Let's just go; know any good places?"

She started rummaging through her bag, reaching for her long, black coat at the same time. Saitou helped her into it; it was modern and quite stylish. As he pulled the fabric over her shoulders, he couldn't help but notice how short she was compared to him—maybe 1,60 if he pushed it. And her hair were up on a messy bun on the top of her head, too, making her appear taller than she actually was.

"Some, but not so close here."

She finally found what she wanted, producing a wallet our of the seemingly small, black handbag. She fished some bills and left them on the table. Immediately all present protested, but she couldn't care less. "I'm not taking it back; besides, I've had three drinks so far."

An eyebrow rose. "Three? I was late an hour tops, right?"

"Well, yes, but I had to sit there and listen to them" she gestured to the lot of them wearily, as she fixed her collar "go on and on about how great today is and how pretty everyone looks and exchange information."

"Fair enough."

"Hey!"

"We're leaving now; have a nice night." Tokio bowed to everyone. "It was nice meeting you; see you later girls."

The moment they exited the bar, she heaved a deep sigh. "Today was grueling...!"

"Agreed...so, where do you wanna go? Wanna focus on food or drink?" He turned to look at her; he noticed from the way she held herself, how she was already facing the street opposite him and how she was angled away from him, she didn't want to do any of those things.

She wanted to go.

"Don't try to be nice to me, Saitou-san; you can go back to your paperwork...or home, get some rest. I don't know, do whatever you want. I only agreed in front of them to let both of us off the hook and spare us the ridiculous evening that was about to follow."

"You don't understand," he said in return, humour returning "tonight I promised myself I'd go out drinking with my friends and get absolutely shitfaced." Her disbelief was comical. "And now, here we are but there's no way I'm not going home."

He paused for dramatic effect, making her chuckle. "Did I ruin your plans?"

"You most certainly did and now have to make up for it. I don't care who you are, we're gonna get drunk with me."

She considered for just a second. "Know what? Why not. Let's go to that place you have in Mind and won't tell me about outright."

"I've been found." Her laughter followed and that accompanied them to his car, which was half a block away.

.

.

"Tokio, gimme that shrimp." She shook her head no. "I'll trade you the big mushroom."

"Throw in that egg, too and you have a deal."

They exchanged foods swiftly and chomped down without a shred of hesitation. Other than demanding about inconsequential things and vocal about her drinking preferences – or how ridiculous they were for that matter – he had been quiet. He was only sat there, swirling the alcohol in his glass before drinking a lot of it at once. In fact, he was on the fifth drink, while also sipping from her second cocktail. They had two shots in between and this was their second plate of food. And he still wouldn't say much about himself or why he wanted to get drunk...and it made her very curious.

"Spill it," she commanded out of the blue, causing him to look at her slightly distressed.

"I didn't spill anything," he defended himself but from her chuckle, he realised he misheard.

"I meant, what is it about this day that upsets you so?"

"My wife." Tokio's expression transitioned perfectly from understanding to confused to wide eyes and mouth hanging open. "My no-longer-wife, sorry; she left."

A small sigh of relief escaped her. "Oh, I see; did she leave you on valentine's day?"

"No; but she loved this day and we always did something nice. I never particularly cared for it, so I thought, why not?" She nodded. "Anyway, now she's no longer here and...her absence is even more pronounced, days like these, when we always did things together."

"Ah, poor you..." She was looking for the right thing to say. "Why did she leave you? When? Is there no chance to reconnect?"

He gave a very self-depreciating snort. "No chance whatsoever; it's permanent."

She put her hand on her heart, sympathy obvious in her eyes. "I'm so sorry; you look like you still love her a lot. Maybe if you tried harder or..."

He waved her away. "No, no, she didn't leave _me_ ; she left this world." Tokio's hands flew over her mouth. "She's, she's gone; she's not coming back."

"Oh, I am so, so sorry; I'm so sorry for your loss and my insensitivity, oh dear."

"I didn't explain it properly, it's not your fault," he assured her and downed the rest of his drink in one go. "But yeah, she's no longer here and days like these, hurts more than the rest."

Her heart went out to him, after it did that familiar thing where it squeezes really hard and releases all at once. She almost took his hand in hers but stopped herself; disregarding personal space was a third tier drunk ability.

"And it's been almost three years."

"As soon as you were made detective, oh god..."

"Yeah; been working like a madman just to have something to distract me."

"How did she...?"

"The transit went off the rails; there were many deaths, some were trampled. It was bad."

"I'm so sorry...!" But then she considered. "Three years is a long time. Didn't you date anyone else?" He shook his head emphatically no. "Nothing?" He did the same. "Not even casual things...?" Same thing. "You _really_ love her; statistics show that the average for a man to start dating seriously again is about nine months. You're way above average. That's amazing."

"The doctor the precinct forced me to go to said I'm suffering survivor's guilt as well as developing a slight aversion to physical and emotional intimacy."

Tokio blinked. From zero to one hundred this person; he'd either say nothing personal or all together. But hey, at least he shared; that must have been some improvement. "That's understandable..."

She looked at him and how he was even more downcast, staring at his now empty glass and how it needed to e refilled. She bit the inside of her lip, thinking as fast as her slightly addled mind would allow. He didn't need to drink more but that's what he wanted. And yet, being out in the public and getting any more drunk wouldn't be sightly and she bet he was a man who valued his image.

She had an idea. "Do you like sweets, Hajime-san?" He nodded almost enthusiastic. "Then let's finish up our plates, pay and leave; I know just where to get the perfect cake **and** drink at the same time."

He needn't telling twice. "But we'll take a taxi," he said in the end, slightly swaying as he stood from the chair.

"No problem."

.

"This place is closed."

Tokio and Hajime were standing in front of a patisserie. The front of the place was large, but not ostentatious; all glass, separated in the middle by the door and the other two sides were filled with goods on display. Silverware, glass plates and hanging platters were the decorations that various sweets of all flavours were hosted on. They looked like works of art, tasteful and full of colour. They looked scrumptious, too, he felt his mouth watering just by looking at them.

But the problem was, there were no lights on. The business name, Mother's Kiss, wasn't illuminated and there was no soul going here and there inside. Despite the deliciousness of the wares, he could not taste them.

"I have my ways in," she urged, winking and moved towards the back.

"Need I remind you I am an officer of the law?"

"Relax, detective," she said through laughs and actually went to the backdoor. "It's not trespassing when you have keys." She took them out of her purse at the same time, jiggled them in his face for emphasis. "Now come on," she unlocked the door twice. She curtly nodded to the right. "We're going for the work stations."

The path was revealed to him, as soon as She opened the door: left led to the front of the patisserie where they served the customers and right must have been where all the baking took place, the true place of interest.

"You work here." He said it after he saw her open the door, like an idiot; he knew she was a pastry chef, she brought him to a closed bakery, why didn't he figure it out earlier? I was the alcohol. He knew, but he still felt like an arse, especially after she had to confirm it by jiggling the keys in his face once more. "Tokio, are you sleeping with the owner?"

She broke out laughing. "I can see why you'd think that..." A deliberate pause followed and her eyebrows wiggled. " _I'm_ the owner, actually," she finally admitted "but I hate telling people when I first meet them. They assume too much."

He said nothing as she led him through the kitchen, pulled up a couple of chairs and both started undressing. She left her coat and bag on an unused counter and pulled up her sleeves, reaching for an apron; he followed her example only on the first bit and deposited his coat and jacket there, next to hers.

"You are rich."

"I am well-to-do; dad's rich. He helped me get this place off the ground as soon as I came back from Paris, two years ago."

"Paris?"

"I went to New York for the basics as soon as I finished high school; then Paris, for the advanced techniques; then came back to put my skills and knowledge to the test. And so far, so good!"

"Are you kidding? Mother's Kiss is one of the most talked-about places in the precinct. The women are always complaining or planning on going, it's very popular." A snort. "Generous dad."

"True," she drawled as she started gathering her supplies. "He even paid for all my studies and expenses over there; he's very supportive."

"So, what are you doing over there?"

"We made a batch of unusable sponge cake this morning; instead of one shot, an entire bottle of whiskey went into the batter! And since people come here for the whiskey flavoured cake and not the cake flavoured whiskey, we had to scrap it. But I hate throwing things out! I told them to keep it, maybe we could make it into some sort of topping or chop it, crisp it up and make it a tuile. But now look, we won't have to! Tell me Hajime, what flavours do you like?"

He shrugged. "I don't have preferences; so long it's tasty, I'll eat anything."

She tried really hard not to turn around and glare at him. "What's your favourite sweet?"

"Chocolate pie."

"So, you are a chocolate guy; should have said that."

"But I'd like to try something different; I have a famous pastry chef cooking for me, might as well take advantage of it."

She laughed at his honesty. "Alright; how about red velvet cake? Ever tried that?" He shook his head no. "Then I have just the thing."

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for her to whip up whatever she thought of, but had the courtesy to slide him a bottle of liqueur as well as two shot glasses. First time he filled and drank both but second and third, he gave her, her share and they drank while she cut the sponge cake in twelve, whipped the cream, decorated the cakes...and finally, presented them to him.

"These look...too nice to eat."

"No they don't; just try them."

He was never presented with anything so pretty and delicious at the same time for his personal consumption; he was torn between taking it home with him or actually eating one. They were perfect rectangles with red frosting surrounding them, bleeding into purple the lower it went while a crescent moon chocolate tuile decorated the top.

"Oh well."

She grabbed one with her bare hands, getting frosting on her fingers and bit into it; a little surprised, but finally snapping out of it, he did the same.

A sound he had forgotten how to even make anymore escaped him and looked at that damn sweet in shock. "What's...in this? It is beyond delicious."

"This is a small sponge cake with red velvet filling; used the same filling for the frosting around it, only coloured it. The tuile is just melted chocolate."

"This tastes...so good..."

He had gobbled down the first one and was already eating the second; an accomplished smile took over face and happily drank her shot.

It was about an hour later that Tokio could say she was _drunk_ ; her head span and her vision swam. Whenever she moved, she felt she needed to sit down for a century. Despite her stomach being full and all of her cravings for the night satisfied, she still drank too much, apparently, because she didn't want to leave her chair. Maybe that was what loosened her own tongue, coupled with Hajime's admissions from earlier, and before she had her last sponge cake, she opened her mouth.

"I never liked valentine's day, but it wasn't till five years ago that I truly hated it." He turned to her, as lucid as he could, to show her he definitely paid attention to her. "The guy I had been dating for three years, we were in New York together even, before we went to Paris, broke up with me." He nodded he understood, but she held up a finger and waved it left and right. "No, no, it gets worse; he broke up with me on New year's."

"Oh. Then...?"

"Well, then comes January, and his birthday was on the twelfth, so I text him happy birthday, right? I still loved him; he was the one who left me and besides, we'd been together for three years. Can't just erase all of those feelings...he responds, says thanks and all that. He texts a day later and the next and so on so forth...then, February tenth, texts let's meet up. I say I can't, too much work. Says he'll pop by my place. I say whatever. He comes, stays for a while, we talk things through, part on good terms and he leaves." A pause; she drew a long breath. " **And then** , _valentine's day comes_ and **what do I get**? A text from _him_ , threatening to leak my recipe book on the internet if I don't pay him ten thousand euros!"

Saitou's face twisted into an expression of pain and discomfort; she nodded wildly, unable to keep her head in place for too long, sobbing. "The bastard blackmailed me! He only came by so he could steal my notebook...naturally, I called the police and they made this whole sting operation where I got my recipe book back and we deleted all pictures of it from his phone, tablet, laptop, everywhere."

She sniffed and sobbed, but no real tears came, thankfully. Saitou didn't think he could handle it.

"So there it is; my reason for hating valentine's day...but please," like waking up from a nightmare, a little more lucid than three seconds ago, she turned to him "please don't tell anyone; you're the only person I have ever told about this, other than the police. No one knows. And I'd rather they didn't. I felt so stupid," she spat the word "don't want a repeat...I'm supposed to be the smart one, too."

Her admission to that did something to his psyche; it resonated with a part of him that he had kept concealed for so long and this, it prompted him to speak, too. He nodded, her secret was safe with him of course, but he was also torn; he wanted to share something, too, now that the drink was dominant and the pity party at full height. If not now, when, his mind screamed and he remembered the words of the psychologist he'd visited: whatever you're hiding is eating you up, you need to say it out loud. Out loud, yes...to someone other than himself.

He took a long, good look at the woman, who must have been too empathetic because damn, her eyes, though slightly unfocused, conveyed concern and curiosity, sensing his internal struggle all too easily.

"Since we're sharing deep dark secrets..."

He stopped to run a hand through his hair, comb it back. And yet, his hand never let go of them, clinging stubbornly onto them at the back of his head.

"It was valentine's day three years ago Yaso and I went out to a restaurant; pretty expensive for our standards, I complained. She said she'd make it worth the while. I relented. I go there, she's already seated at a table, beaming. We have lunch, drink, and when dessert comes, she breaks the news: she's ready. For what, I ask? To try for a baby, she answers."

Her heart stopped; his hand slid from his hair to his neck then, pretending to massage it, but it quickly came to the front, covering his forehead and eyes. Apprehensive, she watched as he took a long breath and then his other hand came at his face and now both palms pushed at his eyes. "I was the one who wanted a child the most; we have had that conversation before we got married and she'd said that when she's ready for something like that she'd let me know. And she did."

He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his legs, fingers now interlaced in front of him. "It was two months later that she called, excited, saying she just came out of the doctor's and she had the best news to tell me."

Tokio saw where this was going fast and she was already fighting back the tears. It wouldn't do to not let him finish his story properly, with her pathetic sniffles breaking up his flow.

"She didn't want to give any details over the phone, so she said we should meet to our favourite restaurant at seven; I told her I'd go pick her up, but she insisted she took the train otherwise we'd be late and she had already made the reservation." There was a long pause. "I knew she was right, because I always left late from work, so I caved..."

His chest heaved, anger and regret moving it. "Three hours later, I hear about the accident for the downtown-bound train. I called her a hundred times, but she wouldn't answer. That's how I knew. She always answered. Two more hours later, I get a call from the police station there: your wife's dead."

She was trying her hardest not to cry loudly, both hands covering her mouth; she could no longer see clearly for her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. When his head hang completely, she stifled a sob and finally closed her eyes, tears pouring over her cheeks.

"If only I had insisted instead; why didn't I say what I wanted? Screw the reservation, you're pregnant. I don't want people bumping into you. But all I said was fine because I didn't want to upset her, not when she just said...it's, it's my fault. It's all my fault."

"No," she was adamant "it isn't." But that bit he said, about suffering survivor's guilt, it all made sense now.

But he only shook his head and pressed on. "And other than her immediate family, I told no one. No one. Their condolences and their sorrow and their pity was already too much; imagine if I told them about...but she was and—..."

He could no longer speak, lest his voice broke. All the liquor in the world could not erase that feeling of loss and devastation; nor make it look like anything else. And she could not bear looking at him anymore, not like this. Her aunt and uncle had lost their son to cancer a year ago and they had been inconsolable; she couldn't even fathom what losing a child felt like. And despite all the support they received, they were still devastated. But he never told anyone; no wonder he had shut down and other than work, nothing changed for three years, he was broken.

She was bawling right about now, but she didn't care. "You said you were averse to intimacy earlier, and I don't want to push your boundaries, but can...can I hug you?"

All she wanted to do was hug him close, stroke his back and tell him it was going to be alright; he would breath again. This would pass.

"At this point, why not?"

It was barely a whisper, because, they both knew, had he put any more effort into it, he too would have cried; she unreservedly grabbed him, standing, and put his head on her chest. He pat his back, just like she wanted and rocked him a little. "You're going to be whole again," she spoke softly, through tears and sorrow "I know it. You are strong, you made it so far; you'll manage to make this a part of you. It'll always hurt, but, with help, it'll hurt less; it will be manageable. I promise."

He would snort and shake his head but she only increased the pressure, making sure he didn't leave. "I promise. You're going to be whole again. Just like potters do with broken cups, you just need some gold poured into the cracks."

"And what is the gold supposed to be in this metaphor?"

"Acceptance; that it wasn't your fault." He tried to jerk away from her, but she squeezed. "Accept that, and your world will start turning again; it won't happen overnight, but with time, it will. You just need to talk to someone about it."

"I'm...not telling...anyone."

"You aren't ready, yet, so it's only natural. Just...just know, you're going to be whole again. Maybe a little bent, a little patched up, but you will." He had stopped resisting physically, but not mentally. She leaned a little forward. "But you'll have to believe it, too. Alright?"

When she looked down, she realised he hadn't stopped resisting, he had fallen asleep. A watery snort of laughter escaped her and slowly, she let go of him. She had a small room upstairs, she had it made for those who needed to spend the night for whatever reason, but there was no way she could get him up any sort of stairs on her own.

She tagged on his hand and he stirred. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, okay?"

He nodded, and when she pushed behind him, he stood. "Can you go up the stairs?" His head hang in a lame attempt to say yes. "Great; come on."

It was a labouring task, but they made it there safely. Almost as soon as they came to a level, he fell forward on the bed. It was a pretty cramped, small room, so the only furniture inside was said bed, a small closet right next to it and a desk and a chair a metre away. She took off his shoes and he curled on it immediately; then she loosened his tie and opened up the two top buttons. There were only two blankets in the closet, she threw them over him. After he was successfully tucked in, she tried to leave, head for the chair, but he caught her hand.

"Stay...till I...fall asleep. Can't sleep on my own...if it's a...bed."

"Alright."

She pulled only one of the two blankets over her, sitting up next to him, still trying to fight back tears. Tentatively, she started caressing his hair; the effect was instantly visible, as he sagged, all tension leaving his shoulders and a grunt of approval was heard. She smiled through the moisture, sleepy and exhausted. This day was one thing after the other and how she ended up in her attic, taking care of a depressed detective, she would never have guessed. But life was full of surprises.

Before she knew it, she was fast asleep, too.

Next morning, she woke up from two annoyances: the sun hitting directly her closed eyes and the raging neck pain from her terrible sleeping position. The moment she made the mistake to try and move, not just her neck but her whole upper body creaked, while her legs she realised were numb. Perfect. She rolled her shoulders at the best of her ability and attempted to open her eyes.

She groaned as she stretched but froze mid-stretch when she saw she was alone in the bed; alert, she looked around her, only to find Hajime desperately trying to ease out the creases in his shirt.

"Good...morning," she said through a yawn, lifting the blanket off of her with tortuously slow movements. "That small door over there...leads to a small bathroom, if you want to wash your face."

"Hey, good morning; thanks, I already used it."

"Really? How long..." a big yawn "have you been awake?"

"Not too long, but you must have been too tired, didn't even stir when I rose."

"Hangovers are the worst," she murmured only to realise yes, her head hurt like hell.

He grinned, looking at her unable to stand, although she had uncovered herself. "Need help?" When instead of answering verbally, she only nodded, he almost laughed. "It's eight; what time do you usually open?"

"Ten; but...the noise downstairs means first shift's already here, for prep work." Another yawn as he pulled her up. "When do you start your shift?"

"Eight; I'm late. But I already called in to let them know."

"You're in the clear, then."

He snorted, as he turned around to put his things in order. "Not when I show up and Okita sees me in these clothes." She laughed, muted from the sleepiness still clinging on to her, but heartily. "But I can't waste more time and go change—I need to pick up my car, too."

"Ah right; we left it behind." He nodded morosely, as he fixed his collar. "Well, I see you are all set to go, so, um...goodbye I guess?"

It was then when he turned to look at her, serious and not as teasing as when she was struggling to stand. She took a deep breath.

"But I want you to know, the things I said yesterday, I meant them. All of them. It wasn't the type of thing one says when they get inebriated. The only thing the alcohol did was make me cry easier, I guess..."

She tried to joke in the end, but he didn't respond as one would expect. No polite smiles, no chuckles. Nothing. He simply kept staring at her, an incomprehensible look on his face, as he stood to his full height.

"Tokio," he said then, voice bordering on formal, even if he used no honorifics "I appreciate what you did for me. You are a very kind person. That being said, I'm in a hurry right now and I can't properly talk to you about things but, if you don't mind, I would like you to give me your contact information. I...liked talking with you. I'd like to keep talking to you."

Her cheeks were tinted a discreet pink. "I'd, um, I'd love to. And if you ever feel like sampling the rest of my merchandise, you're more than welcome to come, have a cake over some tea." She chuckled, as she took out her phone. "I know we are a little expensive, but I can give you a discount." Now it was his turn to chuckle, all while they exchanged information. "And maybe, if you come here more often than twice a month, I can treat you once or twice..."

"That sounds promising. I'll think about it." She bowed her head while he put on his coat and started for the stairs. "See you around, Tokio," was all he said as he became smaller and finally disappeared behind the door.

"You bet," she shouted back, just before the door closed behind him. A bitter but gentle smile appeared on her lips. Maybe both did hate valentine's day but, would you look at that, at least it shoved each in the other's way.

.

.

"And here I thought you still hated valentine's day," Hajime teased her the moment they met outside their favourite restaurant.

She was wearing a new dress, bold red and blue colours, with a deep cleavage. It was tight but flattering. She had chosen an equally striking red lipstick, pretty jewelry and, overall, it was obvious plenty of thought went into her outfit. And yet, when they met two years ago, she was wearing very plain clothes; and last year she herself had suggested they stay home and have some wine privately.

Yet, this time, Saitou had called her and asked her to get dressed and come meet him at Roccabianca at eight. She had suspiciously obliged without a protest and now he could see she was enjoying this. Not that that was a bad thing, but it did surprise him.

"Maybe I want to expel the bad luck, ever thought of that? Or maybe I have news I wanted to share with you and decided today was as good as any day."

"Huh; how odd. Me, too."

They exchanged a look. "Let's just go inside."

It was only after they had their meal, waiting for the dessert that either of them decided to even mention that thing they wanted to tell the other. "You go first," she stated "you were the one who arranged the date."

"As you wish. Well, you see, as I was getting ready one day, I realised how inconvenient it was to bounce from my apartment to yours every day, so I thought, why don't we move in together?" She stopped sniffing her mousse and looked at him startled. "Let's get married and find a proper home, convenient for the both of us."

Her eyes had widened for a second but then a soft chuckle escaped her. It transitioned into a smile and then, instead of an answer, she shook her head and rested it in her palm, as she leaned to the side to see him better.

"Well?" he urged.

"I have news; what I am about to tell you is one hundred percent true and will also serve as your answer." She took a deep breath. "Hajime, I'm pregnant."

His eyes snapped to hers and held her gaze for a very long time. Disbelief, fear and excitement all bubbled right underneath the surface. Slowly, imperceptibly, his chest rose and his eyebrows came together, while he tried to speak. She smiled fondly at him and he...he put a hand over his eyes for a very long second as he processed the information. A smile made its appearance in the end and once his hand left his face, it lay on the table, asking for hers. She gave it.

"I was two weeks late, had the store-bought test, it said positive; went to the doctor's yesterday, said congratulations, you are officially an expecting mother."

"Oh my God, Tokio."

"In eight months from now, give or take, he predicts, if all goes well."

"Tokio, I," he exhaled "you are _not_ leaving the house again."

She laughed. "Hajime, that's ridiculous; of course I'll leave the hose...but I promise I'll call and text you my whereabouts, okay?"

"Please."

"And we're having the wedding before I start showing. Don't wanna have a big baby bump on my wedding photos."

"Whatever you want, arrange everything. Just give me a date and a tux and I'll be there."

"Perfect..." There was a lull of silence which Saitou used to make sure this was real and pace himself; she smiled. "To be honest, it was a good thing you asked me to marry you before I told you about this; I wouldn't have accepted otherwise."

"Nonsense; you know I love you anyway. And having a baby on the way is a very legitimate reason for a couple to get married."

She shook her head. "I love you, too, idiot."

"I love you both." They squeezed their hands at the same time. "But seriously, don't you dare go anywhere with public transport for the next eight months; if you don't feel capable of driving at any point just call me or one of your friends, or the guys."

She threw her head back laughing, shaking. "I promise."

* * *

 **A/N** : Small, cute and cuddly, right? It got kind of heavy in the middle and after there, but all's well that ends well, yes? Also, I really wanted to write and publish this on Valentine's Day but nope, I had to be late. Oh, whatever. Please leave a review on your way out, tell me what you thought!

Kisses,  
FAI~!


	15. Laws of Attraction, Part One

**A/N** : Heeeey! How are you dears? Did anyone say, new AU? No? Then I must have. Hehehehe, I had a leave from work this week and I had plenty of time in my hands. Huh. Well, not plenty, but some. At least enough to write this. Anyway, have at it!

Plot bunnies happened and here it is! I am exploring different nuances of their relationship with this piece, I hope you like it. I dunno how long it's gonna be, but it'll probably be three to four chapters.

Have fun!

By the way, not proofread at all. Sorry~~!

 **Title** : Laws of Attraction  
 **Genre:** Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe:** Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU

* * *

"Hello gentlemen."

A short woman, no older than twenty five, gave a bow in front of the two men standing right in front of the door. She herself was standing in front of the only office in the large room, between the two comfortable black chairs that were supposed to be used by guests.

"My name is Takagi Tokio and I will be your legal helping hand in this joined endeavour; I am happy to make your acquaintance."

Both men seemed to be unprepared to hear those words from her mouth. None had failed to notice the size of the room, nor its large bookcase, that lined the wall behind the desk. The window was a huge one, replacing the upper half of the wall facing the door, with a very soft-looking large sofa underneath it. The entire room and its furniture were in black and brown hues, while pictures of a middle-aged man and his family decorated most of the unoccupied surfaces.

But where the short man, the one who appeared to be a ball of energy, exclaimed a "wow, alright! Hello Tokio-chan," treating these news as a challenge, the tall one, the grumpy looking one, simply groaned.

"I am Okita Souji – but please, call me Souji-kun – and this is Saitou Hajime, the two detectives at your disposal. Feel free to use our talents as you see fit!" He was all smiles and enthusiasm, brown hair shaking as he elbowed his colleague. "Right, Saitou-san?"

Saitou-san sighed now, causing Tokio to frown.

"What do you have to say, Saitou-san?"

By his tone alone, it was clear Souji was expecting a positive reaction; combine it with that forced smile and those deadly glares, it was a certainty. But Saitou didn't seem to care one bit for he just sighed again.

"I say: _oh no_ , they sent us the rookie; Buddha help us."

Tokio's face was crestfallen and she produced her own personal sound of regret. " _Oh no_ ," she bemoaned, too, and even actors would be jealous of her drawl and desperation "they sent me the asshole."

Just as Souji was about to turn and scold his friend, he stayed his probing finger while his half-open mouth was redirected at the small woman with the conservative clothes, her slipping glasses and the strict bun sitting on the top of her head. A disbelieving chuckle of mirth escaped him...while Saitou simply looked at her mildly shocked. His eyes had a very unique amber hue, but after this, they became even more pronounced.

"You certainly have a mouth on you," was all Saitou said, undecided if he should be offended or amused.

"A lawyer, who speaks her mind? Unheard of," she kept the sarcasm at an all-times high "unbelievable even. Who would have thought?"

"Alright," the tall man raised his hands in a placating manner "point taken."

The woman huffed. "I may look cute and defenseless, but I'm not; and I have every intention of being as friendly as people think I am but if you give me shit, you get shit back. So, let's start over." She rolled her shoulders like a boxer ready to enter the ring.

"I'm Takagi Tokio, the very same Takagi Tokio who set this entire thing in motion and had the actual idea for our very expensive and very high-profile law-firm collaborate with any police department in Kyoto, because, let's face it, we both need the good publicity. Your precincts are full of rot and scandal while our firm is all that it is because it only deals with ridiculous rich people. So, in an effort to help the populace and our images, I came up with this. I suggest you both come to terms with a fact I was the mastermind behind it all so we can get on with it already."

"...not even an apology; amazing." A smirk took over his face. "Do they also teach you how to be rude, in law-school?"

Her smile was as wide as it was terse. "If you want to apologise to me, Hajime-san, you are more than welcome."

The tall man turned to Souji, shaking his head, trying to convey his own brand of "can you believe this person" but the traitor simply tried not to laugh at Saitou's plight.

"All I did was call you a novice; am I wrong? You're, what, twenty four? Fresh out of school; how much experience can you possibly have?"

"Not that it would otherwise be _any_ of your business, but I'm twenty eight; and for everything I lack, I make up for it with wit and resourcefulness; plus, I don't know how it is for you big policemen newbies, but us lawyers, are allowed to ask about anything we don't know. And personally, I have a very successful lawyer for a father who shares his gained wisdom with me. Sure there are plenty of things one only learns with experience, but if I was so useless or hapless as you think I am, I would never be in the big office, despite my age, get it?"

Her lecture was met with absolute silence...until Souji broke out laughing. "Oh man," he managed between chuckles "you really pissed her off and we only know her for two minutes; new personal record."

Tokio rolled her eyes. It didn't take her long to realise these two were probably partners, the whole good cop-bad cop routine ingrained in them by now. "Whatever; but now you have my pedigree, I demand to know yours. Why is it that they sent you two to me?"

"I may not look like it," Souji started " _he_ definitely doesn't," he jabbed the tall man "but we both studied law together before entering the force; our rate of criminals caught to convicted is the highest in the precinct."

"That's a relief; you're not _completely_ clueless." Two out of three gave a little polite laugh. "But really, this is perfect." After a long, sweeping stare, she asked "who's the best at research?"

" _He_ is," Okita almost said it like an insult "by far. I hate all that boring stuff."

She clicked her tongue. "Damn." At their obvious question she explained "whoever does research will be working closer with me."

Okita broke out laughing for the second time; Tokio leveled a good, reprehensive glare at him while Saitou rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "I'm not thrilled either," he threw at her "but we'll have to deal."

"Just make sure you never come empty-handed: a hot cup of tea, chocolate, something in those lines should always accompany you."

"Why is that?"

"If you're coming in my office, there's a tax."

"Wait, this is your office?" She nodded yes; Saitou gave her a look. "Who's the guy in all the pictures?"

"Oh! Those are stock photos that came with the frames; I had no time to replace them."

"No time?" His tone was sarcastic. "How long have you been here?"

"Three months, detective, but I had no time; I've been _working._ " Shaking her head, she turned around and headed for her couch. "Grab a chair and let's get to work, too; did you bring a case like the one I asked?"

"We brought three!" Okita exuberantly informed her as he pulled out three thick files from the suitcase he was carrying. "You can take your pick, Tokio-chan, but my personal favourite is the left one."

She seemed thoughtful, hand on chin. "I think I'll go with this one." She grabbed the middle one; Okita smiled.

"Hmmm, what an excellent choice! For this, we have a palatable, triple—"

"Oh god!" Tokio snapped the folder closed with her hand instinctively, eyes squeezed shut in a millisecond. "I was not prepared for that..."

"If you'd let him finish, you'd have heard," Saitou accused her as Okita patted her back but continued like she had never interrupted him.

"—triple homicide, of the gore sub-type."

She remained with her eyes closed, trying to un-see the horrific image she was going to see again; after a very deep breath, she opened the folder again but did not look at it for another second or two, trying to make sure she was adequately talked into it.

"Alright; Hajime-san, prepare a general outline of the case, establish an easy timeline and a clear suspect list for me; Okita-san, you can leave, but next time I see you, be it tomorrow or in three days from now, I will need a full report on exactly what these suspects are doing now."

"It's Souji-kun, Tokio-chan."

"Just get it done, it's important." She already had her nose buried in the file, reading greedily. "I'll need the reason each suspect was let off the hook as well as why the one you wanted to go after the most was untouchable."

"I'll tell you why: money." She looked away from her reading material for the first time and right into Hajime's eyes. "Bastard had plenty of it and uearned himself a get-out-of-jail-free card."

She nodded, equally disgusted. "Let's see if he was meticulous enough."

"He sure was; been three years and he's still at large," Okita complained.

"Why are you still here, Souji-kun?" She might have been demanding, but her tone held humour. "Go put what I asked you together."

Although Saitou had already started drafting what she asked of him, he had to stop and stare. "Bossy one, aren't you?"

"She reminds me of you on our first case, Saitou-san...!" Okita fondly recollected, causing his partner to roll his eyes.

"You deserve to be as manhandled and pushed around as she wants."

"Meanie! Bye Tokio-chan; hope I get to see you soon. It was nice meeting you."

"You, too; and thank you for your hard work!" she shouted after him as he left, giving her a thumbs up as an indication he heard her. "Once we're done for today, when can you meet me again?"

He never looked up from his task. "Tomorrow same time as today."

"It won't work for me; later?" Seeing he paid no attention to her, she too returned to her file.

"Half past eight."

"Perfect."

"Do I have homework, too?"

She refused to smile or look at him, no matter how witty she actually thought that was or how humorous his tone was. "That remains to be seen; I'll tell you after I read your timeline."

"Fair enough. Just to clarify though, will the meetings always take place here?"

"That too remains to be seen, but most possibly no."

"...where else are we going to meet?"

"A cafe, a diner, my place—whichever is more convenient at that given moment."

He spared a look for her, momentarily raising his eyebrow at her, but when he saw she wasn't joking, he simply shrugged. "Must really love your work."

She hummed in return, never quite looking up; he turned away, too because he knew that was all the answer he was going to get. Frankly, he didn't mind, he appreciated the quiet.

And just like that, the tone of their acquaintance and working environment was set. After that they exchanged few words, save for him asking her where the nearest place to order a coffee was from or her asking a detail about the case. Slowly, the day was eaten away; as the hours passed them by, so did the rest of the people working in the firm. Some came by to say goodbye, others to burden her with some task for tomorrow; a select few came just to look at the newcomer. She decided to call it a day though, only after she had read her fill.

She looked at her watch and how it was way past nine, just as she feared.. "I think it's high time we left."

He held out four pieces of paper, as she put her things together. "Ah, perfect; my lists." She skimmed them over before putting them in her own leather briefcase; of course hers was much better and definitely more expensive than Okita's. "Thank you, Hajime. I'll look at them at home; if I need anything from you before we see each other again, I'll call you." She considered. "Speaking of, I don't believe I have your contact information; I'll need it."

He held out a card immediately. "First number is mine; second is Okita's. I suggest you use both wisely."

She gave him a look. "I do not call in vain. But when I do call, I expect to hear someone on the other end. If, for whatever reason you are unable to answer, you have to call me back within the hour. If it's urgent on my part, then I'll call you a second time myself before that; if it's too urgent, I won't stop calling. Deal?"

"I didn't have such a strict call-regime even when I just got married; what's up with you?"

She chuckled. "When did you tie the knot, at twenty?" He shook his head. "Look Hajime, you and I are going to be spending a lot of time on the phone so we might as well sort out the schedule for now. What time is it not okay for me to call?"

He shook his head. "Whenever; if I can't, I won't answer."

"What if I remember something in the middle of the night and call you at three?"

He snorted. "Good luck with that." She did smile this once and he seemed satisfied by the fact. "So, can I go now? Am I allowed?"

"Class dismissed."

.

.

"Stop that."

Hajime was, she wouldn't lie, a brilliant investigator as well as researcher. His summaries as well as his findings, musings and theories she read on paper were quite clever; his methods were out of the box, too—he'd use a different approach to get suspects to admit things or cow them into custody. She appreciated that, truly. What she didn't, though, was the fact he was so smug about it. Or how he would readily take credit or brag about certain aspects of the case, leaving her no room to compliment him.

What she also hated, these three weeks she came to know and work with him was how he would. Not stop. Tapping his pen on the desk! Honestly, he did it all the goddamn time and he was only half aware of it, but she couldn't help wanting to tie his hand to the damn chair!

"Stop what?"

As his reading came to a halt, so did the tapping. The look she gave him wasn't clarifying enough, or satisfactory though, so he simply shook his head as if she was a nuisance that only wanted attention and went back to his task. The moment he did, the tapping recommenced. Her teeth ground.

"That right there! Stop that thing with your pen, I'm this close to...ugh!"

"Sorry, can't concentrate otherwise. You'll have to bear with it."

"Well, _I_ can't concentrate if there isn't total silence."

"Too bad, Takagi. Get used to it."

"Stop it."

"Not happening."

"Stop. Doing that."

He looked at her, challenge glinting in his eyes. "Make me." She faltered, at a complete loss. "Thought so." With that self-serving smirk of his, he went back to his task. Tapping his pen, as if nothing was said.

A second; two seconds; ten; a minute went by. For the life of her, she couldn't go back to her papers. All she could think about, all she heard, was that rhythmic tap, tap, tap, on her wooden desk...

"Alright, enough is enough!"

Without warning, she marched from her sofa to the chair and grabbed the pen out of his hand! Startled, he allowed her to pry it from his fingers and watched in amazement as she put it right in front of his face, as if establishing it was in her possession, waved it and then vengefully, with hate, threw it at the wall facing her, flying right past his head!

"No more pens for you;" she barked as she made her way back, leaving a surprised Saitou behind her "use the damn laptop."

But he recovered a little too quickly for her tastes as he immediately sat back in his chair, crossing his hands. "And if the keys being pressed start annoy you what are you gonna do? Fling that at the wall, too?"

"Don't tempt me, detective."

It was spoken with ire but a hidden promise; it made him smile; a shrug later, she had gone back to her work. "It's your laptop..."

"I am aware."

"Do you have to have the last word?"

"My office, my rules."

"I take that as a yes."

"Take that however you like."

"Don't say such things; someone might hear you."

She stopped herself from responding in the nick of time; it was obvious this man in front of her was programmed to tease and infuriate people. Keeping this up only served to feed his ego. She swallowed her smile – because dirty jokes were never wasted on her – her retort and tried to focus back on her work.

But damn it, he was right; the typing started getting on her nerves in ten minutes flat. Well, she had no time to go around buying a new laptop; after plenty of bracing breaths, she turned to him and, in a flat voice asked "I'm getting myself a nice, relaxing tea; would you like to order something, too?"

"Just the usual."

"Perfect."

He hadn't expected her to physically get out of her chair and grab her coat at that, but there she was. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To get our beverages. I'm having a break to stretch my legs, or I'll _snap_."

"Tokio, it's very late; don't go out walking alone."

"It isn't that late."

 _Of course it is_ , his stare said; _it really isn't_ , her defensive stance replied. He sighed, defeated. Knowing that was him giving in, she put the coat on, but turned surprised to see him do the same. "Let's walk then, stubborn woman. And if this coffee costs me more than money, I'll kill you."

"You're unexpectedly soft," she commented like the cat that ate the canary "how cute."

He fixed her with a glare, just as he was fixing his collar. "Yeah, I'm full of surprises. Move." He pushed her outside the room and she hurried along.

.

.

He was examining a victim's injuries as his pocket vibrated; the man was facing down in the middle of his kitchen. Judging by the fact he had a huge, bloody hole on his back, at the same spot the blood pooled underneath him, it was safe to assume it was a through-and through, for there was no blood dripping around the shirt. He still turned him over to make sure, always wearing gloves and just as he mentally exclaimed "bingo!" he felt his cellphone ring.

He took it out of his pocket, sparing only a glance for the caller id.

"Tokio."

That drew Okita's attention, who didn't stop examining the crime scene around him, blood spatter and the like, but made sure his ears were extended.

"I really need you to come today, but I need you to come late; can you make it?"

"How late?"

There was a brief hesitation before her next word was spoken. "Ten."

He snorted. "Are you insane, Takagi?"

"Can you come or not?"

"...I'll think about it."

"Alright; you don't have to answer me now. Just know, if you do decided to come, you'll be coming at the address I'm about to text you."

"And why is that?"

"They have started closing down the damn building," she snapped, clearly her anger directed at someone other than him "to avoid overworking us."

"Isn't this being implemented because of that dude who dropped dead in his office two days ago?"

She clicked her tongue. "Do I look like an sexagenarian with a beer belly and no living family to you!? It's them they should shoo from the building."

He chuckled. "What's at this new address then? Do I have to dress a certain way?"

"I'm jealous," Okita lamented, but he ignored him again.

"Ah, no; it's my apartment."

He looked at his phone in shock; that earned Okita's curiosity and his mouthed "what is it?" came immediately. Saitou waved him away, but couldn't help the disapproval. He only knew her for two months, she shouldn't be inviting him into her home.

"Yes, you heard right," she correctly interpreted his silence for disbelieve "I can think of no other place suitable for office work at that time of night, don't be like that."

"You're crazy; but whatever. If I decide to come, I'll be there at ten. Have some type of food ready. Bye."

He didn't wait to hear her goodbye, he hanged up, much to his friend's dismay. "Saitou-san," he drawled, complaining "why are you so mean to her? And I'm jealous; I want to dress up, too."

"I'm not mean; and I won't be dressing up. Now let's please go back to our victim. For all we know, with a little luck, he'll be our last."

A hopeful smile was shared between them.

One of the reasons he bore with Tokio's moods and insane timetables was because, should two of their cold cases be properly solved, they were eligible for a most advantageous promotion. Both were looking quite forward to it; internal affairs always held great appeal to the men and now, being right in their grasp, made everything more manageable...even her, with her demands and overly organised schedules. Then again, it showed a devotion to her work and an ethic he hadn't seen for a long time.

Shrugging, without really registering it until very late that night, he had already made up his mind: he'd go, there was no way he wouldn't.

.

"Hajime-san, can I make a personal question?"

"I don't like the preface, but sure."

They were in her living room, several hours after the phone call he received, doing their usual work, but instead of her chairs, they both used sofas. There were three of them around a rectangle black table made of thick wood and space for two huge drawers underneath it that she had filled to the brim with papers of all kinds. The sofas themselves were black, leather and maybe the most comfortable pieces of furniture he had ever sat in.

Currently, the table had no vases, or pictures, or whatever it was usually decorated with; it only had room for empty containers of food, bottles of beer and an ashtray, on Saitou's left. Being the guest, he had first pick and of course he went for the armchair. She almost cried when she saw him sit there but got over it when she realised her puppy eyes wouldn't work.

And now, when the clock showed fifty past twelve, she was curled on her smaller sofa, reading a document and decided to pose this question. He was bound to be wary.

"How come you're here?" Alright, it was late, even for him. Maybe he misheard. Looking up at her though, he saw her chuckle and raise her hands in a "I promise I'll explain" manner, so he decided he heard right. "I mean, you didn't have to come; but here you are. You did mention you were married once, too, what does your wife think of you being unreachable a Friday night—or being alone with a woman, too."

He looked down, trying to fight the smirk. "If you think she'll be upset why invite me?"

"Well," she immediately grew deep red "I am the type of person who just asks for things; if you give them to me, I'll keep asking. But if you say no, I won't hold it against you, especially because I know they may be a little out there." She put her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, I really don't mean to cause a problem in your relationship!"

Finally, he cracked a real smile. "Relax, I was only pulling your leg; I'm divorced."

"Oh." She went through five emotions all at once and settled at unbridled anger. Without a shred of hesitation, she threw him her slipper. "Ass; how long ago did she escape you?"

"A year and a half, approximately."

"That's a long while ago," she mused out loud "no girlfriend?"

He snorted. "No time for one, or mood; it was a bad separation."

"How so?"

"Yaso went crazy and started accusing me for anything under the sun; all because I dared refuse her to write it up as mutual; but she was the one who wanted the divorce. I just wanted the papers to reflect that."

"Oh? That's interesting. Did you cheat on her?" She chuckled. "It was only a question, no need to glare like that. But then, why?" When he sighed, visibly annoyed, she raised her hands defensively for the second time. "No need to answer; I'm just curious."

He blew air out of his nose, as if that settled the argument and she couldn't help but laugh. For some reason, it irritated him to his very core. "How about you then?" He asked almost vengefully. "You've no life, too."

But her answer was far more clipped. "I swore off men two years ago when a stuck up lawyer I was kind of dating began measuring careers." She clicked her tongue. "Not only did he think he was smarter than me, he was also convinced he'd do so much better than me because I was a _woman_." She looked disgusted. "Ever since, I decided I had no time for men; if they were worth the wait, they'd wait."

"I see sexism in law is as rampant as it is in the police."

She nearly spat on the floor, but decided to simply click her tongue. "Yes, lovely, isn't it?"

Another slipper hit him when he said nothing in return and he sighed. "I'm not the one doubting your skills, am I?" he deadpanned, voice emotionless. "Save it for the asshole who told you that."

Her eyes shone dangerously. "He got a slap in the face and it was still way less than he deserved."

"Tokio, I genuinely think you have anger management issues."

He was met with silence.

.

.

Huh; that was rare. She heard her phone ring and the caller id wrote Hajime. These two months they knew each other, he had never called her first about anything, he just waited her to do it and then inform her of whatever he wanted. Was this...an emergency? The idea alone unsettled her.

"This is Tokio."

"Can we meet at my place tonight? I can't leave the house after six."

Okay, what? She blinked twice. "Did a witch finally curse you to turn into a frog if you do?"

"Tokio, stop, this is serious," he said through chuckles "I need to know now."

"No problem."

"Perfect; I'll send you the address. You may come whenever you want after seven. Bring food."

Per usual, he hanged up first, before she even said bye. What a gentleman.

.

She hadn't expected him to live in such a quaint little neighborhood. He didn't even have an apartment, no, it was a duplex. He did say he was the one on the second floor; she wondered how the hell she'd know which one, but now it made sense. After she checked her smart phone twice, to make sure google maps brought her to the right place, she stepped out of her car. Tentatively, she started ascending the stairs.

When she came close to the door, ready to ring the bell, barking was heard; from the pitch, it must have been a big one. She strained her ears to make sure and yes, it came from Hajime's house; her eyes grew wide and instinctively held the bag with the food tighter and higher. Dogs tend to go for the food.

"Rai, calm down," Hajime's voice cut through the noise "it's a guest."

The dog surprisingly did as he ordered. She was impressed. Then the actual door opened, without her ever ringing the bell and there Hajime was, wearing sweatpants and a simple black tee. But, what she was really interested in was the canine behind him. She bend to the left, to see between his hands while handing him the food indelicately.

"Hey," was all she said and kicked off her green pumps to enter and focus on the delightfully huge akita inu named Rai. He wasn't the usual white-caramel combination and he must have been a mix with something bigger but he was so cute!

She immediately sat in front of the dog, which other than sniff the air around her didn't move a single muscle, and held out her hand. She watched as the dog looked up at his owner and only after he nodded as he closed the door did Rai give her his paw.

"Awww, what a good boy! Give me a hug."

The dog jumped on her too soon and she lost her balance; both human and canine were now on the floor, with the poor akita licking her face away to make up for knocking her down.

"He's a little enthusiastic," Saitou excused his dog but did nothing to help, seeing she was actually enjoying the dog's affection by patting and petting and had already sat up again. "Thanks for the food."

"If you'd told me, I'd have brought something for him, too!" she held accusation in her voice, because she always loved dogs; she could just never have one. And she wanted to give him treats damn it!

He looked back, in the kitchen by now, that was one big room with the living room. She was cleaning her glasses on her shirt, ruining her look, because the shirt was tucked in her skirt. "He's been gaining weight lately and the vet said we should only feed him his dry food."

"Awww, poor Rai." Only then did she realise. "Is this why you couldn't leave?"

He nodded. "I'd forgotten his walker was unavailable today."

"Ha ha, just like a single father; how long do you have him?"

"A year, found him at a crime scene. Took him home with me and he's been here ever since."

"That's so cute...! To think you have at least one redeeming quality, how odd."

"He was abandoned by his owner; he was the key to the case actually," he shared, but not before he jabbed at her sides.

She tried not to show it hurt. "Good Rai." The dog nuzzled her; she could have melted. Jab worth it.

"Couldn't just leave him there," he continued as he brought two plates and glasses to the table at the living room. "And once the case was over, he was already attached."

He grabbed two beers out of the fridge and left it next to the glasses. "Whatever; he's mine now. I suggest we eat before we start with the case."

"As you wish; did Okita bring you the account analysis of the father and Hiro's bank statement?"

"All here," he assured her "but first: _change_ , woman; I see you fold yourself in these clothes and feel sorry for them."

"I came straight from work, I didn't bring anything."

"Unless you're worried about your style, I have clothes you can wear."

"Seriously?"

"Sister visits from times to times."

She snorted. "I forget you are not an only child with that attitude."

"That's _my_ line; case in point, instead of asking where the clothes are you expect me to bring them to you."

"It's your house! I've never been here before, what do you want me to do? Rummage your closet?"

"They are in the second shelf under the pillowcases. Go choose what you like."

Flabbergasted, she shook her head but did as he wanted, seeing he simply came and sat next to her. "Change in there, too—Rai, you stay here."

"I don't care, it's a dog," she shouted indignant. That was all the permission he needed; Rai went after her, wagging his tail. "It's because he doesn't see women often," Tokio teased when she came back "he finds the female figure a mystery."

"I don't see how the mystery is solved with what you chose to wear..."

Her mouth hung open at the insult; her hand snatched a pillow off his couch and flung it at him! "You said it yourself—these are just borrowed clothes I can feel comfortable in! So what if they are a little baggy?"

"A little, she says..."

Her colour started changing at an alarming rate. "You know what, you're being ridiculous; Rai saw me naked, mystery solved...for the dog at least."

"Oh please; you—"

His cellphone started ringing; both stopped arguing and Tokio simply sat down.

"Aren't you going to get it?"

"I'm thinking about it; I don't know the number."

Her eyes slid to him. "You think someone would prank-call you?"

"Good point." He swiped right. "This is detective Saitou." In mere three seconds, Tokio watched his face transform from amused to expressionless to something unreadable altogether; she grew worried instantly. "I told you not to call me; I told you not to bother me at all. Stop calling."

He hung up.

For a long moment, Tokio remained completely immobile, hand hovering over her chopsticks. Saitou put his phone down, somber and took a deep breath. "Let's eat." Just like that, he reverted back to his usual nonplussed behaviour. She...blinked. Withdrawing her hand, she looked at him evenly.

"Who was it?"

"...my ex-wife."

"Is she still calling you?" she asked scandalised. He nodded affirmatively. "But wasn't she the one who wanted the divorce? And how long has she been calling you?"

"You think that's the worst of it?" He snorted. "She's married to another guy; that's why she wanted the divorce." Her mouth flew over her mouth, looking morally outraged. "She was married before the month was out."

"And she's calling you? _Why_?"

"It's nothing life-threatening; I made sure before I started hanging up on her."

Furious, Tokio grabbed her chopsticks in her fist and stabbed a piece of pork. "Block her and don't fall for her tricks—at best, she doesn't want you moving on; at worst, she's trying to drag you into something unethical."

"I know Tokio," he finally smirked "because I know Yaso; she always had issues with attention. If she's not getting all of it, at all times, it's as if you aren't giving her any. One of the reasons she left me."

Her lips curled into a smug, lopsided grin. "Was _that_ what you weren't giving her enough of? Attention?"

He was about to grab some noodles with his chopsticks, but changed his mind last minute. "Yes," he accentuated it by pinching her nose with them "we were all good on the other front."

"Maybe not," she popped a shrimp in her mouth "she did leave you."

"Trust me," he stole the mushroom out of her chopsticks with his "I asked. It wasn't like she woke up one morning and decided to find a new husband. It was mostly lack of attention and, sadly, lack of resources."

"In other words, she wanted some rich guy who would worship the ground she walked on."

"Right you are. Sex, surprisingly, had nothing to do with it."

She hummed, as she took another bite. "Once we are finished with the food, I'll need your help to track down the transactions I told you about."

"As you wish."

.

"Tokio."

She felt a nudge; it was soft but certain. But she lived alone. Did her mother come to visit?

"Tokio, wake up..."

Someone licked at her face; she didn't own a dog. Her eyes snapped open at the realisation and sat up immediately. When she saw a huge black akita licking away at her, she started finding her bearings again; then she saw Saitou standing next to her in his tracksuit and remembered.

"I'm, I'm up, I'm up; what time is it?"

"It's two in the morning."

"It's what!?"

She made to leave, but came to the conclusion her foot had fallen asleep and refrained from moving not to fall off his couch.

"I know, it's pretty late."

"I only closed my eyes for a second; how did an hour and a half go by?"

"I meant to wake you earlier but I was working another case."

"Nah," a stretch and a yawn "that's fine." She tried to stand, but didn't make it. "Sorry, I'll get up any moment now..."

He raised a palm pacifyingly. "Neither works on Sundays, take your time."

"Then do you mind if I crush here?" He gave her a look. "I'm not in the way, right? I'll sleep on the couch with Rai; I'll be fine."

He looked to the side, hands in his pockets; then at the watch on the wall. He considered. "Suit yourself. But I'm an early riser."

"Me, too." She gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks." When she lay back down, Rai tilted his huge furry head in wonder. "Heard that Rai? I'm staying!"

"And you can stay with her," he motioned for him to stay "you don't have to leave. Couch is okay."

The dog barked once, ecstatic; he shook his head as he sauntered to the bathroom, starting his nighttime routine. Brush teeth, wash face, go change into his nightclothes. Considering Tokio was there, it was hard to wear what he usually did – meaning, strip to his boxers – so he used his pajamas after at least a year. He still shook his head, even as he put them on; he hadn't had a real visitor for a long time and somehow it happened to be her. He didn't mind her, but...she made him feel uncomfortable. It wasn't on purpose, nor was it too pronounced. But something about her presence made his fingers twitch; his stomach a little upset.

He didn't know what it was, only that it happened every single time he saw her...for all two plus change months he met her. But now, he had no choice. Maybe he should text Okita, ask him to come over to talk about their – hopefully – last case to have a pretext to get her out the door early. And yet, as he opened his messaging app, he hesitated.

A sigh escaped him. He was never indecisive; why was he like this now?

With another sigh, he went from his room to the living room, to let her know there was a pillow and a blanket she could use.

"Huh."

She had fallen asleep, Rai on her feet. He chuckled. Alright, guess she really was spoiled; now he had to go get her those things. What a brat. He bet she was one of those people her parents handed her everything. Definitely a daddy's girl, if she followed his occupation and asked him about things and shared stories. Then again, there was nothing wrong with having a good relationship with your parents, rich or poor.

He walked through his musings and before he knew it he was standing over her with what she needed. He didn't hesitate to raise her head and put the pillow there, but it caused her to move and hit him on the shin with the back of her hand. He almost flicked her forehead! Even in her sleep, this woman was inflicting some sort of harm on him. Shaking his head for the umpteenth time, he covered her, careful not to cover Rai, too; he decided to leave once he heard her sigh content in her sleep, thus he was sure she was comfortable.

What a day. In the end, he did send Okita that message. The less time she was around him, the better. For some reason, he didn't feel like himself when she was around. To think he fetched her a blanket, how ridiculous...

But that wasn't the oddest thing to happen. The very next morning, he woke up to the sounds of voices; familiar ones. And they weren't just speaking for the sake of making noise, no. They were conversing. He was a little sleepy yet, but not enough not to distinguish his best friend's voice, happily chatting away with his surprise guest.

Ugh, what time was it? How earlier than planned did Okita come?

Looking at his watch, it read ten.

Wait, what? He set his alarm clock for eight! Almost panicked, he shot off the bed and changed into his tracksuit and black tee in record time. How did he sleep through the alarm clock? And why didn't Rai bark?

"The hell didn't you wake me when you arrived, ass?"

"Good morning Hajime! I see you slept well," Tokio teased, his bad mood evident just from his posture; but she was smiling, while petting his dog idly, who only wagged his tail to show his happiness his master was awake.

"Good morning you bastard! You're no fair; why do you get Tokio-chan to sleep here and not tell me anything? I'm jealous. She even made you breakfast."

That was surprising. "You have?"

She clicked her tongue at his disbelief. "I finished it just ten minutes ago, a little after Sou-kun showed up."

He craned his neck to where she nodded, the kitchen counter, curious. He sniffed the air and yes, something sweet wafted about. "I see."

"You can go for a shower or whatever; there's plenty of hot water left. I also washed some clothes in the short program and pressed them, hope you don't mind. I wanted to wear my clothes fresh, so I put in some of your shirts, too, not to waste too much."

He was about to speak, a little out of sorts, when Okita whined again. "I'm so jealous, you bastard! Next time, come over at my place, Tokio-chan. I may not have a dog, but I am better company that _him_!"

"Shut up," he snubbed his friend though why, he did not know; he was certain all of what he just told her was true. "I'm having breakfast and then we'll walk Rai for the morning; then, Okita and I are working our case. Since you're still not ready, you can leave with us or once we come back."

"Oh!" She waved him away. "There's no need for that; I already did it." He stared openly at her. "What? I've been awake since seven! I had to do something..."

At least that explained why Rai had no left over energy to come tackle him once he emerged from the bedroom. Somehow, he was still displeased. "And you had the gall to say you couldn't find the clothes yourself yesterday."

"I still wouldn't know where to find your clothes!"

"Yet, you haven't been here for half a day and you've already made yourself comfortable—too comfortable."

"Well, _excuse me_ for trying to help; my parents taught me to be a nice guest to my host, but apparently being nice to you is only acceptable after one makes their intentions known formally, in writing, with seal and everything."

"Takagi, I just woke up; no sentences longer than twenty words. Didn't even have coffee yet..."

"Tokio-chan brewed some for the lot of us!" Okita informed, slightly nodding to his coffee maker. "Go have a cup and eat your omurice; once you're done, we're starting on the case."

"Perfect! Then, I'll go change." Only when she got her clothes from the hangers did he realise the ironing board was propped up against the wall, iron next to it and about ten shirts on hangers all around the living room.

He just stood there, shell-shocked, as she bypassed him in that upbeat step of hers. He turned to his friend who started laughing, but quietly.

"Did that just happen?" He processed all of the information. "Did she say she walked my dog?"

"She did and _yeah_ , she did; I found her while walking him in fact and joined her." cheery as ever, the short man stood and went right next to him. "If I were you, I'd invite her over more often," he whispered in his conspirator's drawl and headed for the kitchen. "Now eat so we can get started."

"Right..."

In the end none of his questions were answered, he realised, as she emerged, fully dressed and professional. She bid her goodbyes, informed him how she'd be expecting him tomorrow at the usual time at her office and left.

Okita, for some reason, went to his bedroom; he seemed vindicated in the end, for a laugh was heard, hearty and boisterous. "Oh man, she made your bed and opened the windows, too," he came back out, closing the door "keep her. If you let her stay for more than a day, she'll put the entire house in order. God knows it needs a woman's touch," he finished, shooting a judgmental look at everything around him.

It preoccupied him so much, he missed the slap. "Idiot." Having her here meant a lot more than just that; as if he didn't understand. Or maybe that's why he said it, knowing him. "For what's worth, the food was really good though."

.

.

"Would you please _stop that_."

A knowing smirk curled his lips; even he couldn't count how many times they have had this exact conversation. "Make me."

This once, he watched her stand and without a shred of hesitation, grab one very heavy, very old book she had on her coffee table, that he had originally thought was just for show. Turns out he was wrong: it was also her weapon of choice, if he judged how well she wielded it against him and his temple. He stopped the full burnt of the hit with his hand but a part of the spine still found his head.

"One could say you're abusing me, Takagi."

"One could say you're mentally torturing me, Hajime. Self-defense is protected a law-given right."

She was never boring, he had to hand it to her; each time, she used a different type of violence against him, be it her hands, feet, books, or other utensils. Once, it had been a plastic spoon.

"You have an answer for everything, I see."

"Huh! Not quite." There it was, the true reason for her ire. "Apparently this case is a true mystery! How did that bastard manage to get away with the murders? I've been looking at this from every possible direction for the past three months, being as meticulous as I've never been before and yet, nothing! Pretend you never heard this but the methods you used to capture him were both creative and unconventional. How could he have predicted all of them? One, fine; two, okay; all five? That's ridiculous..."

He sat in the armchair better. "What are you trying to say, Takagi?"

She became smaller, folded in on herself. Averting her eyes, she looked to her lamp and turned it on. For some reason, then, she proceeded to close the lights in the rest of the house and without fail, march right to him and sit on the bigger table around her sofas. She crossed her hands. "I firmly believe there was foul play involved." Her eyes now looked right into his. "From within the force."

"A mole."

She nodded grimly; he cursed. Well, she didn't blame him.

"Hajime," she started then and commanded his absolute attention not just by the note of undisputed authority in her voice, but also because she put her hand on his knee. He first looked at the hand and then her. "I will ask you this once and only once, in this room right here so please answer me truthfully:" a deep breath from her; his chest rose with a sharp intake of breath "how much do you trust Okita?"

He exhaled; this wasn't what he thought would leave her lips. "I trust him with my life." He chuckled. "He's more than just a detective; he believes in what he does."

"Alright, that's all I wanted to hear."

But then, he cocked his head to the right. "That was not what I expected to hear though." She literally kept him guessing, how stressful. "If I were you, my first suspect would have been me." They shared a look for a moment. "Why aren't you questioning _my_ motives, Tokio?"

"Well," she started as she turned her eyes to the floor "I got to know you well enough to know it can't be you. That's not your character; I would have noticed something. But, given you aren't well-liked within the precinct, if there was even a suspicion you were dirty, the others would have exploited it already."

"I see." A lopsided smirk formed. "So, basically, you trust your instincts that tell you to trust me; the rest are just an excuse."

She hit his chest with the back of he hand. "Don't be so obnoxious, _detective_." She rose and went back to her folded pose, only this once she sat as close to him as possible. "We still have to find out who did it and why and hopefully expose them."

A smirk formed. "Didn't I tell you Okita and I are gunning for internal affairs?" She nodded. "This will be the best warm-up."

"Fair enough," she found it in her to chuckle "but if that's the case, we have to look at this from a whole different perspective; just writing down how many uniforms and higher ups were involved in this will take up a lot of time. Okita will be informed, naturally; he'll play his part, too. But it will still take a long time just to narrow down a suspect and—"

"Tokio."

His voice put a stop to her mumbling. It was too obvious to him, her panic, her fear. She had never been involved in such a thing, it made sense, but they had to be calm about this. Only after he had her undivided attention did he go on.

"We can do this." Slowly, she nodded. "We'll form our plan once we have a clearer picture of who may be responsible." She nodded again, this time faster. "Now, the best thing we have to do right now, is put all the files down. We won't get anything done tonight. Let's just call it a day."

He leaned forward, elbows on his legs. In two seconds, he was already rubbing his eyes, with the flat of his palms. This...was going to be difficult.

"You know, Hajime, if anyone asked, I'd say you're taking this a little too well." She regarded him. "Could it be you already knew?" He let one hand fall and with the available eye turned to look at her shrewdly. "It is your case after all."

"I've had my suspicions for a while now," he admitted after a long moment "but Okita was reluctant to accept that as the only reason; one of the reasons we brought this case to you."

"I chose it though."

He chuckled. "Why do you think he suggested the left one? He saw you were contentious by nature."

"You manipulated me...!"

"He did," he clarified immediately, knowing full well the consequences admitting this would bring if he didn't shrug off the responsibility. " _he_. He's the sneaky one. Don't let the happy-go-lucky exterior fool you."

A glare later, she gave up. "Know what?" She looked at her phone and it was barely twelve. "It's not that late; and today's events are a little overwhelming. Wanna go for a drink?"

He considered; he was about to refuse her, when he remembered he had literally nothing else to do, other than sleep. So, "why not?"

Both stood at the same time, she stretched, he cracked his neck and once their shoes were on, they were out the door. "I know a great place two blocks from here! Unless you wanna split the distance and we go downtown."

"I don't care. Ah, don't," he stopped her from getting her keys "I'll drive you back. But you're buying first round."

She nodded excited. "Two blocks away it is!"

* * *

 **A/N** : I don't know why, but she had to be a little violent in this reincarnation of hers xD I enjoy writing it though. Also, yes, she has no concept of boundaries. Poor Hajime, I really feel like I'll be putting him through a lot in this particular fic. But he can handle it.

Anyway, let me know what you thought about it; leave a review. Save an author's heart. Love you darlings.

Kisses,  
FAI~!


	16. Laws of Attraction, Part Two

**A/N** : I'm back cuties!

Although this story hasn't gained lot of traction, I don't mind, I intend to finish it anyway. This is number two, I think two more should do it. To those who reviewed, you always make my day, so thank you.

Hope you like the next chapter lovelies.

 **Title** : Laws of Attraction  
 **Genre:** Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe:** Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU

* * *

"Why am I here, Takagi?"

She was paying little attention to him, nose almost touching the laptop screen; she pushed her glasses up her nose. "Because you had little time to spare and better come pick me up and go directly to my place than drive around in circles."

He looked closely at her. There was no work for him to do here; seeing she was occupying the only desk in her office, he had little to do other than watch her do something while he did absolutely nothing. Being idle bothered him. And she was exactly the same; why would she force him into this? He looked closer. And then it hit him.

"You didn't drive to work today, did you?"

Her eyes momentarily focused on him; a second later, they slid away, guilty and as telling as ever. He scoffed. "You used me for a free ride."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she countered, purposefully unconvincing, because, let's be real, there was no way he would leave and go home at this point, especially without her. "But since you mentioned it, if you do have your car with you and since I happened to forget about it what's better than you coming to pick me up and save a lot of precious time?"

"Didn't peg you for the cheap type."

She took off her glasses just to press at her eyes, tired by looking at the screen but not before she snorted. "I think you've made it clear enough you're never wrong; nothing wrong with keeping this planet a little healthier."

Just as he was about to share what he really thought about her being environmental friendly, the door to her office was swung open without even one knock. Both people jolted and looked at the door.

"Hey there beautiful," a man in his thirties saluted, grin easy on his face as he held on to the knob "boss wants to see you for a minute." He had a very...punchable expression on his face right that moment, Saitou mused, as he raised an eyebrow trying to look suave. "Mind _hopping_ over for him?"

"Why the fuck are you under the impression I won't file for sexual harassment for talking to me like that, pig?"

"Because deep down you know you like it."

The wink was what sealed the deal for him; this man was a moron. A predatory moron. "That was the most rapey line I heard all week and keep in mind I'm a detective," Saitou commented, sizing him up at the same time.

"And the week is almost at an end," Tokio added.

The man pretended to be sorry for his poor language, hands raised in a placating manner, in front of him. "I meant no offense, officer." He turned to Tokio. "Just go talk to him."

The moment he closed the door behind him, she huffed. Taking a bunch of papers in her hand, she put them in order by banging them against the wood. "I'll only be a minute; we can leave once I return."

"What's that guy's deal?"

"He saw me leaving a guy's apartment one morning six damn months ago and assumed for whatever reason, he had a chance with me, too." She snorted, as she put those papers in her briefcase but grabbed some other. "I told him and tried to explain to him several times that if I had the choice of having sex either with him or a woman, I'd choose the woman; and I'm straight."

Saitou laughed. "You had a one night stand and someone from work saw you? That's what I call luck."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't care it was someone from work," she clarified, hand on her door "but that it was him in particular." She shrugged. "Just give me a moment; I'll be right back."

While she was gone, he kept himself occupied by taking a real look around her office: opening drawers, looking at pictures on shelves closer, examining the books she kept at hand. Three months, and he never took the time. Well, when did he have said time before? They were always working.

Heh, she finally replaced the stock photos with some of her own, he noticed, as the frames all held pictures of her with family or friends. Hm, she looked a lot like her mother; and brother; her sister was tall, wow. Ah, there is the father; he looked too friendly and approachable for such a big shot lawyer. In his experience, most people like him were too stuck up and distant. Then again, this was a photo of him with his family—he wasn't even wearing a suit.

Just as he was about to sit in her chair, the door opened and back in walked Tokio, looking quite pleased with herself. "It went well, I presume?"

"That it did; and if you're done snooping around, let's go. Grab my stuff first!"

He shook his head but complied. She held the door open for him as he collected her briefcase, their coats and her handbag, handing it to her a little indelicately once they were out of the room. "I've parked a block away," he informed as they walked to the elevator "hope you don't mind walking in those heels."

She slapped his arm. "No, I don't, ass."

"Have fun you two," the guy from before emerged from his office, a shit-eating grin on his face "and once you're done with her, pass her to me, will you."

"He's not worth it," he advised as he caught her hand to hold her back, just as she was about to pivot on her feet and go give him a piece of her mind. She tried to break free, but his hold was strong. " _Trust me_ , he isn't."

She deflated, but never lost the edge. Damn, she'd be unbearable if she didn't calm down. He needed to distract her, or at least get her talking, or, even better, get her to vent; that would help. "I thought you said no men for two years though; what up with that?"

She rolled her eyes; did they have to be in an enclosed space together where she couldn't avoid his questions? She hated having this conversation with men. "Sex is just another physical need; relationships are different, more complicated." She considered. "That being said, I don't have sex with random people; certain standards have to be met, even if it's brief."

"But sex without the commitment seems a little pointless."

She shrugged.

"But what if you're in a long distance relationship where your physical needs can't be met as easily?"

She smacked him for the second time. "If you are committed to the other person, you make sacrifices, obviously. Though sex isn't the biggest problem—general lack of intimacy is. You can't hug the other person, can't sleep next to them, can't hold their hand...and humans need intimacy, it's hardwired into us. Personally, I discourage them for that very reason; few last. But, those who do, sure are devoted."

He gave her a shrewd look. "So is casual sex worth the trouble or not?"

"You don't have it with someone you know you might get attached to! You choose someone you haven't made an emotional connection with and then it's attachments' free and _then_ it's worth it."

The familiar sound of reaching their destination was heard and finally the doors drew open, freeing her from this interrogation. She immediately walked out of the elevator and quickened her pace to the exit. His legs were long though and despite not hurrying after her, he easily reached her with his big strides. "That's a hell lot of stipulations just for casual sex."

"Yes, obviously, you disapprove."

"I don't," he said thoughtfully "I just don't get why you think it's preferable."

She chuckled. "Because when it comes to relationships, I'm very picky; but sex, meh, is sex. It's whatever. I won't bring them home to meet my family, I don't have to live with them. It's just one night of harmless fun."

"You have to be careful, though; and it's all that more dangerous for women. If it's a man, at worse they'll have to report a stalker; some women may end up dead, though."

"Wow, there; chill."

"There are a lot of perverts and criminals praying on women who want to live independently." A look. "I _am_ a detective after all; I've seen lots of them."

He walked in front of her then, to lead the way to his car; she remained unmoving for a second, eyes unfocused and blank, but then she rushed to reach him. Once they entered the vehicle, she turned to glare at him.

"I hate you right now," she hissed. "I never thought of that; but now it's all I'll ever think about."

"I'm only saying, be careful; and don't do it for too long."

"It's only happened six times in the span of a year! But even if I did it all the time, damn it! Now I really can't think of anything else. You're an asshole."

He tried not to glare. "It's my fault for trying to offer my advice."

She clicked her tongue. "Just drive."

"Mind if I call Okita over?" He said it almost through greeted teeth, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Ah, no; we need to give him his assignment." She took to looking out of her window, just as he started driving. "How is your case going, by the way? The murder of that man?"

"It's...going. We've hit a wall for now, but we'll find a way around it."

"What type of wall?"

"All of his medical files are protected."

"The vic's?" He nodded. "Oh, that's easy! I can help you unseal them, if you really think them critical to the outcome of this case."

An eyebrow raised. "Seriously?"

"Uh huh, just tell me his full name and I'll file what you need; you'll have access in a week—two at most."

"That's really helpful; please do." She smiled, turning to him for a second and then went back to looking out of her window. "Hey, you've eaten anything?"

"No, come to think of it."

"Feel like ethnic?"

"Why not?"

Saitou pressed a couple of buttons on his radio and the Bluetooth that was connected with his cellphone, started dialing. They waited until the line was picked up.

"What do you want, you lucky bastard?"

He couldn't help the smirk that seeped into his words at his friend's permanent dejection. "To ask if you wanna eat; we're on our way to her apartment to work on the case. You come, too."

"Hell yeah!"

She tried not t laugh out loud, because she could be heard. "I'll be there, get something for me, too—I'm starving. See you in an hour."

Just as Saitou was about to hang up, he was heard shouting "send me her address!"

"I will," Tokio volunteered, just as the line died "you keep driving."

"Order, too; they won't take less than fifteen minutes and we'll be there in ten."

"Yessir."

.

.

"Tokio-chaaaaan!"

The moment she opened the door, Okita wrapped his hands around her middle, crying in her neck, nearly knocking her down from the force. "What happened?" she asked, trying not to laugh or hit him...or both.

"My girlfriend dumped me ten minutes ago!"

Saitou snorted, for some reason unsatisfied his friend was being so forward with her. So, he felt a little petty. "What girlfriend? Wasn't she a friend you occasionally had sex with?"

Okita's head snapped up and away from her hair in a split second, expression turning from pathetic to glaring. "Don't be like that in front of Tokio-chan, you bastard!"

"I'm not being anything if it's the truth," he answered smug but nodded to her. "Though I don't think she'll think less of you for it."

"What? Really Tokio-chan?"

"Of course I won't; but I'll express disappointment. Friends with benefits? Really? That's stupid, Souji."

Saitou raised a very critical eyebrow. "Weren't you the one all pro casual sex half an hour ago?"

"Yes, but in case you missed it I said casual sex with people you've formed an emotional attachment to, no matter the kind, is stupid; and that's exactly what he did." She pointed at Souji, still holding her; she came to the conclusion he wouldn't let go if he didn't receive some sort of sympathy, so she patted his back.

"You wound me Tokio-chan." Okita complained, finally letting go.

"You know I'm right; now you lost both a friend and a good shag."

While an argument broke out between the two of them, each listing the prons of their side, while emphasizing the cons of the other, Saitou rolled his eyes, "you're both idiots," he decided and sat on the armchair, grabbing some files.

"You have no right to speak," Okita snubbed "last time you had sex you were still married."

" _I'm sorry_ I feel the need to establish a deep emotional connection with another person before I share one of the most intimate aspects of myself with them."

"Then start dating and leave us alone," Tokio corroborated.

"Go back to arguing, idiots."

In the end, for one reason or the other, they made little progress. Whether it was because of their arguing or their slow start, or their snack breaks, even after they ate just as soon as Okita arrived, they got no real work done.

"This is why I don't want Souji coming over too often," Tokio complained once she realised it, just as soon as he had left, calling it a night. "He sidetracks me."

"Ever since we assigned him to keep an eye on colleagues, he hasn't been feeling well; bet you that's why he broke it off with Hana."

She chuckled. "You're gunning for internal affairs though; that's all he'll be doing."

"Well, there are plenty of things to do there but sure, that's the core." He shook his head. "It's just that those he doesn't like aren't directly or at least obviously involved with the case and the immediate suspects are all people he likes; he has a hard time accepting his, as he calls it, people radar can be so off."

"Then let him keep an eye on everyone."

"That's not efficient."

"True...poor Souji." Saitou shook his head. "Did you get any work done at least?"

"Of course I did; I'm immune to his tomfoolery."

She did laugh this once. "Perfect; I finished none of my self-appointed tasks...but one." Her defeated tone turned upside down. "I promised you an injunction and I shall deliver. The paperwork is done; I'm filling it tomorrow, first thing in the morning."

"You're a life-saver."

"Oh, I know..."

"Humility must be your biggest virtue after all." He dodged the slipper this once and decided enough was enough; it was time to go. He stood, cracking his neck. "Mine is knowing my limits; I'm tired." Picking up his coat and keys, he put on his shoes. As always, she escorted him to the door. "See you tomorrow?"

"No, the day after; I have an important meeting with the boss's boss tomorrow evening and I need to prep." Her smile was bright, leaning on to the frame with one hand and holding the knob with the other. "If all goes well, I might get another promotion. We'll see!"

"Good luck," he seemed impressed "text me how it went."

"You bet! Goodnight Hajime, drive safe."

.

.

"Hijikata, this is serious. We _need_ his medical records."

Standing in front of his superior resolute, he fought his case unflinchingly. The man he went up against, quite the formidable opponent, sat in his chair like he owned him, looking at him with a stern brow, fingers interlaced in front of his face.

"I don't like how you're becoming increasingly dependent on this lawyer," he simply said "I never contested you need those records."

"I'm not dependent on her," he refused "but if I'm given an easier option, why not take it?"

"Because the public prosecutor doesn't like our precinct and this Tokio won't be here forever." They both continued their stubborn staring match while he was still talking. "Just make sure not to grow too accustomed to it."

"I'm not an idiot."

"I know but lately, I've been hearing her name a lot; be careful."

Saitou chuckled with disapproval. "Not my fault Okita is an idiot."

Hijikata's lips curled themselves in a small, amused grin as he regarded his detective. "Funny how you think it was him I've been hearing it from and not you; in every other report...or conversation."

"We do work together a lot," he tried to defend himself but why he felt that way, he did not know; it wasn't shameful he spent a lot of time with her due to their case, but something in his superior's expression forced him to feel that way. "It's only natural."

"Whatever you say, Saitou. Close the door behind you."

Just as he was in the process of forgetting this conversation ever happened, his phone vibrated. He fished it out of his pocket at his own pace, knowing it wasn't a call and opened it. It read:

 _Not exactly a promotion, but great news all the sane; tomorrow, food's on me! By the way, I filed your injunction, too. We'll see how it goes._

An involuntary smile came over his face.

"Good news, Saitou-san?"

He looked to the right, to see a smiling Nagakura Shinpachi, glasses always falling off the bridge of his nose. "Hm, yes." He put the phone back in his pocket. "I have an hour worth the break," he said then, knowing Nagakura always took his break around this time, too "wanna go have a bowl of soba?"

The man looked at him in a faux-suspicious way. "You rarely ask people to eat with you, Saitou-san. Should I be worried?"

"What?" He rolled his eyes. "This is what I get after everyone hounding me about being more friendly at the workplace?"

Nagakura laughed, curls dancing with him. "Alright, I'm coming." As Saitou shook his head, wearing his coat – and scarf, now that the weather had gotten colder and Tokio kept scolding him about not having one – a ghost of a smile remained. Nagakura elbowed him. "Must be some really good news then, Saitou-san."

He said nothing; simply nodded. But inside, he was unsettled again. Had...his mood really improved just because of that? This really wasn't like him. He didn't like this at all. But at the same time, he couldn't help it. She rubbed off on him, it seems. Shrugging to himself, he went on to his lunch with his friend and colleague.

.

"Hajime, stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop making some sort of noise every time I start speaking."

"I do no such thing."

"There, you just did it again." He pretended to be innocent while still tapping his foot under the table, making that terrible, irritating repeating noise. She fumed. "Stop. Now."

"Make me."

"Don't tempt me, Hajime."

"Ah, I forgot. We are in a public place," referring to the fact they had actually met at a cafe after a very long time, for a quick drink to brief each other and set up a date for later. "You can't throw anything at me lest people think you're crazy."

"Don't challenge me, either."

Despite being really cold outside now, nearing December, they still sat outside. It was easier for both, as well as safer; they were the only ones sitting there, so no one could eavesdrop. Plus, if anyone approached, they could easily spot them. And they were too far away from the narrow streets and turns of the sidewalk, thus no one could hide and listen in.

Save for the mounting cold, it was perfect.

"Only you would take that as a challenge," he lamented, shaking his head. "You're lucky your injunction came through, Takagi or else I'd have reported you for abuse."

But his words were only a pretext to let her know of the fact it worked. "Really?You received the files?"

"Sent to us this very morning and it hasn't been two weeks yet."

She crossed her arms and sat back comfortable, relishing in her abilities. "See?"

"I never doubted your skills; only your state of mind."

"Not my fault when you're being intentionally annoying."

He smirked. "Tell you what: you'll stop abusing me in private spaces and I'll be wholly less galvanizing." She seemed interested. "Please say yes because I have three bruises, Tokio; three. One of them on my neck no less. What am I supposed to tell people?"

"Alright, first of all, I didn't inflict that one—"

"I only got it when I tried to dodge yet another slipper."

"—Secondly, if you wore a damn scarf like I've told you only a thousand times, maybe they wouldn't see it; and thirdly," she snorted with laughter "tell them it's a hickey or something, no one will care."

The disapproval was almost palpable. "Why does everything have to be sexual with you?"

"How? I only said one thing." But she couldn't keep a straight face and started chuckling; he imitated her, struggling to keep the smile off his own face. "Today, at least."

"There you go."

"Hajime?"

A female voice stopped their banter, coming from somewhere higher; meaning, the woman was standing. It wasn't too close, at least two metres away from them, but her voice still reached them. She watched as Saitou's entire nervous system went on high alert then and stopped speaking; Tokio, curious, turned to the person who talked to him and he rudely didn't even look up.

"Is that you?"

She came close now and Tokio could clearly see this woman: she was tall, red dyed hair that suited her very nicely cut in an angled, long bob; her face told you she was thirty; her clothes, forty, despite being expensive and, for a forty year old, fashionable. Her nails were manicured to perfection, her clutch the exact same grey as her heels. Her make up not heavy, but her lips, curling into a self-satisfied smirk now, a vibrant red.

Saitou still said nothing, didn't even look up at her; Tokio simply alternated looking between the two, trying to ascertain if her suspicions were correct.

"Are you out on a _date_?"

"Hello," Tokio decided to spare him, seeing he had zero intentions of speaking "my name is—"

"I don't care for your name," she waved her away, chuckle supposedly polite – and made Tokio seethe all over – "only for your taste. You look cute and sweet; what in earth are you doing with _him_? You can do so much better, I just know it..."

Her patronizing tone helped none with Tokio's temper; that look of superiority and pity cast on the both of them made her blood pressure go up! Saitou noticed, seeing it was Tokio he was stubbornly staring at, and decided to avoid the bloodshed; finally, he opened his mouth and spoke.

"Can you leave? I'm sure you've better things to do with your time."

"Not at all..."

"Yaso, leave; I won't say it again."

Even without speaking the name, Tokio knew it was her, for Hajime to act like this; the fact she kept being there, standing with that smug look on her face and talking down on both gave her a general idea to what their relationship devolved...and why she, too, decided she disliked this person. Sometimes, after all, things are instinctive.

"Yaso-san, Hajime-san and I don't have much time to spare and there are plenty of things we need to go through. I too will kindly ask you to leave."

"Oh?" Her words caused Yaso to look at her closer and that lofty expression never changed. "Do you need a _girl_ speaking for you now Hajime?"

She never stopped looking at Tokio; Tokio snapped. Without warning, she stood, banging her fists on the small table! This served two purposes: scare Yaso off and get the buzzing energy out of her system...but only the first was achieved, as the woman took a slight step back, squeezing the clutch a little and jumping back altogether when she realised Tokio's actions caused the coffee and tea to spill.

"Listen here, _madam_ , we are on a very tight schedule; you might not work thus only serve to be a burden to society, but we do, and have no time for your nonsense. The reason it is I who spoke and not him is because he has _nothing_ left to tell you. He asked you to leave and he clearly said he wouldn't ask again. It's not his fault if you can't understand basic Japanese—or only hear whatever suits you. Now, you'll either leave this general vicinity and go back to whatever tea party you came from or I'm going to ask Hajime if he needs anyone to issue him a restraining order against you."

Visibly upset, offended even, Yaso looked all around her, as if to find support from someone or verification this impertinent woman really spoke to her like that, only to be met with deafening silence and no interest, as Saitou was already looking away, uncaring.

"Do we understand each other?"

Her final's words caused Yaso to turn her eyes back at her, her anger clear. "I see my replacement is feisty," was all she said, setting her jaw high "how _cute_ ," she venomously commented.

"Restraining order against you; do we understand each other?"

Yaso snorted, furious. "What's your name girl?"

"If you didn't care for it before, you don't care for it now. Leave."

"That's alright, I'll have my husband find out what it is; and then, one hell of a lawsuit awaits you."

Now it was her turn to snort, only hers was amused and derogatory. "For what? Telling you you need to leave us alone and that you should stop harassing your ex husband? Or do you think I believe even for a moment you're telling your _current_ husband that while you're stalking your _ex-husband s_ ome replacement of you told you to get lost and you got your panties in a twist?"

This was the first time Yaso actually remained silent; brooding, but silent. "Leave; I won't say it again either."

"Fine; have it your way...for now. See you around, _girlfriend_."

Tokio made sure to get her message of how little she was putting up with her antics across by continuing to glare at her even while she made her retreat – yet kept looking back – and not even blinking until she was far away; only once she had crossed the street and went her way did Tokio sit back down, collapsing on her chair. But she wasn't relieved, far from it; she was upset and angry and restless.

"Your ex wife is infuriating."

He nodded, morose. "I know."

"What did you see in her?"

"Well," finally, he cracked a smile "she wasn't always like that and rarely to me; the change was slow but certain." She chuckled, some tension finally leaving her; she failed to notice how his eyes stayed on her though, for a very long moment. "You do realise she now thinks we are attached, right?"

"Obviously; she called me _her replacement;_ and then _girlfriend,_ in a way _._ " Tokio snorted. "As if I'd be her replacement; I'm ten times the person she is."

"As impressive your self-confidence may be, she can easily make your life a living hell; her husband is annoyingly rich and does all her whims."

"I'd like to see her try," was her direct, defiant challenge and Saitou couldn't help but...well, quite honestly, be a little attracted to her.

It wasn't solely because she defended him, nor because she actually managed to make Yaso go, a feat all on its own, but she was so confident; as if it was natural to her that Yaso needed to leave and not them. Him? He doesn't like dealing with his ex-wife. He'd have left the moment he saw her, if he had paid for his coffee. Tokio stood her ground admirably though and not only did she not give in, she even got what she wanted.

And she hadn't even cared about the implications. He...he really liked her attitude, he wouldn't lie; he had started getting used to it already but now, yeah, he liked it. She was a little fearless. He liked that, too. Then again, they were about to tackle a serious case of corruption, she should be at least a little fearless, otherwise they wouldn't go far.

He suppressed the smile. "I know she basically ruined our briefing, but let's agree to meet again at eight; my place. Bring comfortable clothes."

She seemed excited at the prospect. "Am I gonna sleep over again?"

"Please don't; we both work tomorrow."

"But I'm sure Rai has missed me...!"

"How can I possibly know that? He's a dog."

"You'll see when he sees me tonight; I'm staying over and that's final." She deposited a couple of notes on the little table, a little over the price of her tea and stood. "Stay till the waitress comes. Bye for now."

As she walked away from an exasperated Saitou, she had time to reflect on this peculiar turn of events. She had no idea why Yaso pissed her off to this extent but damn that woman, she was insufferable. How could one person be that uncivilized? To think she came to gloat over her ex husband for no other reason than pettiness even when she was the one in the wrong and he was, as far as she knew, on a date. To come over just to talk shit about him—how cruel. How unforgiving; Yaso was holding a grudge, it seemed.

Resolute not to allow this woman toy with her colleague's feelings ever again, she began thinking of the best way to rid of her once and for all. People like her are the worst; and she needs to be made aware of the fact, too and hopefully stop harassing Hajime. No, not hopefully: urgently. Heh; Tokio would definitely show her...if it ever came down to it at least. They had far more serious issues to deal with that Yaso, sadly.

.

.

"Wake up, you lucky bastard~! Open your eyes and see the bright new sun!"

Uuuuugh, why was Okita's voice in his ear first thing in the morning? His alarm clock hadn't even gone off yet...!

"Wake up you lucky bastard! I won't repeat myself."

"You just did, idiot."

Okita snorted with laughter. "Not even fully awake yet and you're already being an ass; a lovely day awaits us."

"Get out, you moron."

Saitou smacked him with his pillow for good measure but he still didn't falter; he just caught it and threw it aside. "Tokio made pancakes; get up before they get cold."

"Pancakes...? Do I even have the ingredients for that?"

"Apparently you do, because they smell divinely; now be grateful I came to wake you and move."

"Why are you even here?"

Okita blinked. "Do you have lapses in memory? You texted me to show up bright and early yesterday at an ungodly hour; I did."

"Huh."

So, he did; he thought he never went through with it.

"Whatever, you're still groggy; I'll leave you to get dressed. Don't be late, or we're eating without you."

As Okita closed the door to allow him privacy, Saitou tried very hard to look back on the previous night; Tokio had come over, changed into her pajamas – some ridiculous pink and white teddy bear themed pajamas, as loose as her sister's clothes – and then made herself comfortable with his dog. She petted him, gave him commands and that little traitor followed them. He never listened to anyone that wasn't him or Okita before—Rai barely listened to his walker.

Then, she took the list of police suspects and started asking all sorts of questions about them while jotting down things she wanted to do to get more information about them. Then she proceeded to ask him about his own opinion about these people and which people were missing from this list, or according to him, had the biggest chances of being the mole.

That was when both came to a terrifying conclusion: it didn't have to be one. And those who seemed too far fetched to be corrupt, could very well be innocent, who were only implicated by some indirect way without their knowledge. After all, they realised, if someone or some _ones_ had managed to steer everyone's suspicions away from them or even cause no suspicion at all, it only meant one thing: they were masterful in not getting their own hands dirty. They had others to do their bidding, knowingly or unknowingly.

That was the point where everything turned on its head.

New theories were born, new assumptions made. Hajime felt all the more confident spouting names and ranks and personal information. And, to top it all off, he knew exactly who to target. After all, it couldn't be such a big coincidence that the moment a certain someone found out Tokio had filed an injunction for Okita and him went straight to Hijikata to report it as a _bad_ thing. He just feared that if she had the ability to do that then maybe she had more hiding up her sleeve; after all, everyone but Okita, all they knew about her was that she was some young lawyer with little experience that posed as an expert – some of his first, less savory comments about her – and drove him mad; now she did this. Someone got scared.

Now if only he could _be sure_ who it was, he'd be very happy.

But time slipped past them without their notice and before either one knew it, the clock read half past twelve. It was time to put their work aside.

"Can I make a personal question now?"

He turned to look at her, almost melding with the couch; she sounded tired, too but she still had energy to ask the question. Might as well answer it, right? He gave a curt nod as the okay.

"How long has she been calling you?"

An eyebrow rose. "Yaso?" She nodded. "It started a couple of months before I met you."

"So almost half a year now." She considered; "when was the last time she called?"

"Half a week ago."

Her eyes darted to him. "Has she ever propositioned you?"

He drew a blank.

"Has she ever propositioned you?" she repeated. "You do know what that means, right?"

A disbelieving laugh escaped him. "Yes, I know and the answer is of course not! She's married. Besides, Tokio, did you see how she acted today?"

"Yes, because she saw you with another woman that she immediately assumed was your new girlfriend; that's when she became hostile."

"What are you saying?"

"What does she tell you when she calls?"

"I never ask; I just tell her to leave me alone and hang up on her."

She smirked. "Have you ever asked her?"

"No." He was absolute. "And I'm not going to."

"How did you know it wasn't life-threatening?"

"First time she ever called I was dumbfounded; I asked are you in trouble? She said no. is your husband? Said no; so I hung up."

She chuckled. "To the point, as always...Hajime, I'm telling you; she wants to sleep with you."

"No, she doesn't; she's married. She didn't even cheat on _me_ before we got divorced. Why would she cheat on him?"

"Hajime, she's a taker; the only reason she didn't sleep with the guy was because then the divorce would definitely come out against her. But now, maybe he cheated on her; maybe the sex isn't that good. Whatever it is, I'm telling you, she wants to sleep with you."

"She doesn't."

"Why are you so against the notion? What if she does?"

"I don't want to be around her, or deal with her; at all. And she knows, even if what you're saying is true, I'd never actually sleep with her. I wrote her out of my life a long time ago; and she's married. I'd never."

"Then, next time she calls, ask her why she's calling. Be curt—leave me alone, what do you want from me damn it? Say something; I bet she'll be honest for no other reason than you're always hanging up on her—she'll want to make her pitch fast. I promise you, she'll—"

His phone started ringing; they both went silent. As he brought it close, they could see the number displayed on the screen, but not a name. She snorted!

"I summoned her, it seems; answer it."

"No."

"Oh come on, aren't you curious? Answer it, but put it on speaker."

"How do you even know it's her?"

"Because there's no way you haven't blocked her and her husband's number; so, she bought another just to call you."

"Show off." But with that, he finally decided to do as she asked. "This is detective Saitou and whoever it is, you better have a damn good reason for calling at this hour."

"It's me."

Tokio smirked in triumph; Saitou massaged his forehead. The small voice on the phone belonged to none other than his ex wife.

A heavy sigh escaped him then and he almost shooed Tokio away with that look she was giving him. "Yaso, that's enough; I don't want you calling me, running into me or having anything to do with me." Tokio urged him to ask; he rolled his eyes. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

There was an entire second of complete and utter silence. And then...

"Because I miss you."

"Uh huh!" Tokio mouthed and gestured, trying to make no sound. He glared both at her and the phone.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I miss you, Hajime," how amazing, she sounded nothing like this morning; Tokio crossed her hands, satisfied, as if that alone proved her entire point. "I really do."

"I don't care; stop calling, go to sleep, it's late."

"Don't you miss me, t—?"

But, once more, he hung up. A heavier sigh escaped him this once as a hand ran through his hair.

"What did I tell you?" She jutted her chin at the phone. "She's trying to get you...back? Whatever. That. And the moment she saw you with another woman, she calls? Shady."

He was at a loss for words while being as weary as he'd ever been. "How?"

"Did I figure it out? It's simple; people like her attack the other person's confidence, before deciding to swoop in and pretend that despite all the flaws and shortcomings, they are, for some reason, still interested in you; that's called manipulation. Sadly, too many people deploy such methods."

"Why are you telling me all this? Why did you make me ask her?"

"So you know; and now that you do know finally do something about it."

"Like what?",

"Get. A damn. Restraining order against her!" The last part she almost shouted, causing Rai to become agitated; Hajime had to calm him down. "Sorry Rai; but make it legal, put it in writing. There is not one single judge in the whole wide city of Kyoto who wouldn't grant you one. And if she ever tries to contact you again, boom, she gets a fine. She doesn't work though. How will she pay for it? Boom, husband knows, shenanigans **stop** ; you win. The end."

"I don't want to ruin her marriage or I fear she'll come after me with a chainsaw. Look, in general, I don't want to take it to court; I just want to put this behind me."

"She won't stop if you don't take it there." He looked away; she became petulant. "Then maybe I have it all wrong; maybe you do want her around, hoping to reconnect at some later time." He turned to her in a split second, glare deadly. "Then get the restraining order and be done with it."

He sighed; she sighed; the dog got confused. "Or don't; what do I know? I'm just a lawyer. But if you don't stop her, she won't stop on her own."

"Tokio," he began, exhausted "why do you care?"

"Because I care about _you_ and I can see, she's poison. Don't let her treat you like that. You deserve better."

She took his hand into hers and squeezed. She let it go, what felt like it was, too soon; there was a sense of loneliness when she withdrew her hand. He remained looking at his own hand for maybe two minutes after.

Ah, right; that's when he texted. Saitou had started doubting his own good sense and judgment and basically called Okita over just to make sure he wouldn't do anything he might regret. For whatever reason, he could no longer deny he found her attractive to some degree. And after today's events, it only worsened. No wonder he texted. He worked with her almost every day.

After that, he easily recollected how he excused himself, claiming to be too tired to keep his frown in place; that earned him a laugh and a goodnight and he retreated to his bedroom, leaving Rai behind to keep their guest company, who too seemed to be ready to fall asleep at any moment. Thankfully, this once he had made sure she had grabbed the pillow and the blanket long before they needed to turn in for the night and there would be no accidental nightly encounters.

"Good morning Hajime," came her cheery voice from the kitchen, the moment he was spotted "come sit; let's eat. We're all starving."

He _hated_ her good mood. Where did she even find it? His alarm clock hadn't even gone off yet. "Coffee," was all he said, staggering to the seat opposite hers.

"Just brewed some; I'll get you a cup. Sou-chan, any for you?"

"I'd like a tea; Saitou has a green blend somewhere in there."

"Oh, I know; I made some for myself yesterday. Perfect! Two orders coming right up. Anything for you Rai?" The dog looked at her curious; she chuckled. "Just water then."

He watched her with the edge of his eyes fly about his kitchen and only one thing went through his mind: contrary to her belief, her good mood was not in fact infectious and she needed to stop humming like an idiot.

"Are you going to walk Rai now?" she asked, once he had finished most of his breakfast. He nodded. "Can I come, too? I'll leave after that anyway."

He shrugged. "You walked him without asking me lat time you were here; suddenly you care about my opinion?"

She smacked his arm. "Don't be like that before the day even starts, come on...! Okita, are you coming?"

"Nope; two people walking a dog is more than enough. You can have the honours, Tokio-chan."

"Alright; go get dressed Hajime."

"Everyone orders me around this morning, what the hell," he complained as he did what they told him anyway; he still snatched his smokes and lighter on his way out.

When he returned home, after she was gone, he made Okita witness him swear to never do it again. At least half the neighborhood saw them; not one of them took his "this is my coworker Tokio-san" at face-value and now the entire block thought they were dating. It would only be a matter of time before his mother called him to ask him about it; his landlady had a big mouth on her after all.

Okita simply laughed at his plight and wistfully complained "I want to have problems like these, too...!"

Bastard.

.

.

"Why aren't you answering your phone, detective? I called _three times,_ detective."

"Hello to you, too, Tokio; what do you nee—d..."

Finally he looked up from his desk, only to be met with a most unexpected image: it was the Tokio he knew, yes, but what she was wearing had nothing to do with whatever she ever wore till now; one could even call it...risque? His neutral expression slowly changed into a smirk. "Maybe sit on my lap."

She snorted. "You can't afford me, detective" She chose to sit _on_ said desk and crossed her legs.

Despite him not having his own office like her, Hijikata had given him a prime spot for his cubicle, which was far more removed from the rest, almost isolated. One could argue only the teacher's pet took it—Hajime in this case and right next to it, Okita's. But Okita had gone home for the day already.

"So you already have a rate."

She saw through his tactics and didn't budge. "Anything I'm wearing, if you ruin it, you buy it; and if it's a unique item, you owe me a favour, too. Seeing the pantyhose **are** a unique item, be careful, officer. I had to order it from the internet all the way from Italy. Cost me 40 euros—that's approximately 5000 yen."

"Just for these?" He clicked his tongue. "I'd say they are worth it," they were quite fun to look at "if you were nineteen; but you're twenty eight. Grow up, Takagi."

He had stopped whatever he was doing, just to cross his arms, smirk at her and sit back in his chair. She did not appreciate it. "These are my favourite and they just so happen to make me look great, so save it."

Well, they did, but he wouldn't admit that to her; they were black but low on the thigh they changed to skin colour, making it look like she was wearing thigh-high socks—if it weren't for that rose, stitched to the front in red thread. And the fact she was wearing red, over-the-knee boots to highlight it, did not go unnoticed. Combined with the fact she wore shorts, too – jeans in particular – it painted a...complicated picture.

"What if you sit in my lap and nothing gets ruined?"

She shrugged. "Then I just sat in your lap for free. Though," she snorted "good luck with that; too many buckles and zippers."

He shook his head amused. "Why are you here, Tokio? And why are you wearing stripper clothes?"

She flicked him on the chest but never got off his desk. "You aren't as funny as you think you are; and I'm here because you won't answer your phone; so, I decided to pay you a visit. Told you I hate being ignored."

"But what's up with the clothes?"

She sighed. "These are my normal clothes; when I'm not at work anyway."

Although he did want to laugh in her face, he realised "you weren't working today? Why?"

She soured. "They forced me to take a leave; a paid leave, but still a leave."

His face relayed he needed more answers. She gave them. "Remember that pig from work?" Oh no. "He grabbed me by the waist and fondled my ass; I slapped him and then kicked him in the balls."

He started laughing.

"I'm glad you're happy."

"Don't get me wrong; you did the right thing; stripper or not, no one has the right to touch someone without their consent."

He tried, but being so close, he couldn't avoid the pen, eraser, and bundle of papers she threw at him. "You promised to be less galvanizing!"

"But look at you; you and your stripper boots don't make it easy." She glared. "Alright, I'm stopping, but no one here knows what you look like; they'll think you are an informant, not a lawyer."

That captured her interest. "If I am to make your life harder, I will sit in your lap right now."

"Okay, you win," he stopped her from moving "why were you calling?"

"Why didn't you answer?"

"I was in a briefing with my superior; I haven't checked my phone for two hours. Your turn."

"I had just returned from visiting my parents and needed the documents you have with you or I'd go crazy. _But you didn't answer_."

"That's not a real emergency."

"Which is why I'm not pitching a fit; I just came here to get you."

"You mean you want me to leave now just to get you the papers?" She nodded. "No way," he made it crystal clear "I have a ton of paperwork to get through here."

"I'll go insane Hajime!" she complained and actually grabbed him by the arm and shook him. "Let's go to my place already; give me something to read or I'll die—I've already finished my cases," she clarified before he snapped something in those lines at her.

"Not only are you trying to force me to leave earlier, you wanna drag me to your apartment? You don't work; drive a little."

She clicked her tongue. "Come on Hajime, don't be like that." He didn't give in. "Pretty please?" He shook his head. Just then, an idea occurred to her. "I'll cook! You come over to my place and I'll cook."

"...sounds fair. It's decided then; we'll go to your place once I'm done with—"

"Nooooo!"

"—the paperwork. Yes."

"Come on, let's go now."

"Look, I have a lot of things to write."

"You write it tomorrow."

"Tokio...!"

"I'll really go crazy if I just sit here while you type." He shrugged. "You don't want me being restless later, do you?" He shrugged again.

"You're always like that. Give me something better."

Her eyes shone with mischief; she smirked. "Tell you what; we leave now, and I will actually sit in your lap, once we get home."

He put his forehead in his hand at the sound of that, shaking his head but smirking. "Why does everything have to be sexual with you?"

"Take it or leave it Hajime-san; and it doesn't have to be—it's your mind that's thinking dirty."

"Fine," he relented, "it looks like you really don't want to be here."

"But we're leaving _now_."

"Yes, yes," he condescended, gathering his files and putting his desk in order.

" _Now_ , detective," she tugged on his tie twice and let it go with flourish.

She stood up and, no coat or bag to retrieve seeing she came without them, started walking away. He rushed to grab the cigarette resting next to his keyboard; once that was securely between his lips, he flung his coat over his shoulder casually as he walked in slightly bigger strides to catch up. He didn't fail to notice everyone talking about it, like the gossiping children they were, but he didn't linger on them; he chose those who said nothing, but still looked, or those who had an incredibly suspicious look in their eyes, such as a certain Takeda...did he take out his phone, too? Damn, they were too far away, he couldn't see.

"One thing is for sure," Saitou commented once they were out of the building "you made a lasting impression."

"I can't care less; I parked right there." He spotted her car across the street. "Meet you back at my place. What do you feel like eating?"

* * *

 **A/N** : End of chapter two; wrote it out pretty fast though, gotta say. Please leave a review on your way out~!

Love you all very much; many kisses,  
FAI~


	17. Laws of Attraction, Part Three

**A/N** : Hello wonderful people of the internet!

Third installment of the lawyer AU, yaaaay~! I need to get this out of my system so I'm writing like crazy. Hope you like it, lovelies.

Thank you everyone for reviewing and liking this, you're keeping me motivated.

 **Title** : Laws of Attraction  
 **Genre:** Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe:** Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU

* * *

He had just emerged from his bedroom, towel used on his hair to dry them. Rai was already rubbing himself on his fresh clothes, to leave his scent on his owner that just got himself clean. He didn't have time to pet his dog though, as his phone rang for the third time in ten minutes. Huffing, he rushed for it before it fell off the coffee table. It was Tokio; probably the other two missed calls were from her, too.

He groaned; she was going to complain he wasn't answering again.

"We were _not_ supposed to meet tonight; what do you want?"

"I know;" her voice was hushed and urgent; he perked up. "I need your help; you need to come pick me up quickly."

"What happened? Where are you?"

He didn't need more than three seconds to stand up, and head back to his bedroom; he needed to put on different clothes, grab his gun and get the hell out.

"I'm at a bar, half an hour away from your place called Tobacco; I need you to come as fast as you can." Tobacco was a well-known nest of scumbags; what was she doing there? "I scheduled to meet with a not so law-abiding citizen, because I need him for a case; though he doesn't want to go on record, his info is invaluable. And, while I'm interviewing him, whom did I see?" She paused for dramatic effect. "A wanted man who was tagged as a flight risk over a year ago, convicted for financial schemes but he's actually a suspect to three rapes and one murder."

He froze for a moment. "Are you sure that's the same person?"

"Hajime, I was the one who tagged him; I couldn't overturn his exoneration—my first pro-bono cases, they were a triplet and no one would touch them, but I managed to pin some other things on him, so he just...skipped. Hadn't seen him anywhere for a year; this is the first time I ever see him and, I heard him say to the people he came to meet, this is goodbye for good."

She was whispering all the while, tones hushed and careful. Good choice, in his opinion. Also, his arrival needed to be expedited. He started rummaging his drawers to find his other keys.

"He's leaving the country and just finished his drink. Considering we are an island, I say he's going to the airport, he's too spoiled to go by boat. He wants his comforts. I bet you he's trying to escape to Russia."

"Okay, Tokio, leave; I know where Tobacco is, I'll go there by myself."

"You don't know what he looks like and he's not alone. He came with friends that also drove him here—I can see the driver in the car right now. If I could detain him, I'd already have, but I can only offer my knowledge. The only reason I called you instead of the police is because he can escape a siren but not someone he doesn't know he's after him."

"Your choice is sound; I just rather you'd leave it to me."

"No way; I'm taking the bastard down. Come quick."

"I'm ready to leave; but first: what are you wearing?"

"Blue jeans, leather jacket and black boots; also, contacts. But why?"

"You have the car's make and plate?"

"Yeah. It's a white Honda some years old; very well-kept, spotless. Plates are Kyoto bound 88; beneath the numbers, it writes in Latin characters NaHa, capital N and H."

Saitou froze for the second time that night, just as he was about to leave the apartment, all geared up. "Are you sure you saw that right?"

"Uh huh, looked twice." A second passed that he said nothing and she grew immediately suspicious. " _Why?_ "

"That's the same as a coworker."

But it can't be him; he refused to believe that. No, no way. She did say that's the car and the plate, he couldn't deny her sight but there had to be another explanation, right? His stomach became a knot. And her overly enthusiastic, yet reasonably quieted "you think we might have found our mole?" helped none with his disposition. So he ignored her question. "Can you see the driver?"

"No." She considered. "But I could!"

"Tokio, _**no**_."

"I'll only be a minute."

The line died; she hang _up_! Fuming, he pushed himself to open the door. "I'll be back late Rai," he warned as he flew down the stairs, banging the door behind him. He barely had time to wave at his landlady that had just come back from dinner with her daughter.

"Be careful with that!" she shouted as she saw him heading for the garage with all that he held. "You haven't used it in years."

"Three, in fact," he mused out loud but cared not. He didn't skimp on the upkeep, he knew she was running. So, he simply took out his cell and texted: _use your bluetooth if you have it with you and call me immediately; don't do anything stupid. I'll be there in fifteen minutes tops_ and drove off like hell-hounds were behind him.

It hadn't been five minutes he was driving, his cell rang. "Answer," he commanded his bluetooth and it obeyed. "Damn it woman, what did you do?"

"I met the driver; he's a gangster, he looks and talks the part perfectly. His hair was in a mohawk—a mohawk in our day and age, Hajime! It was all dyed blond while the sides he dyed red. Brr...! He was all muscle and arrogance, too."

His heartbeat relaxed significantly; that was good. The man she described looked nothing like him.

"He even shared his name with me; Nagakura Shinpachi."

Saitou almost stared disbelievingly at his ear. "That's not Nagakura. Yes, that's the man the car belongs to, but there's no way that's him. He's thin, with long curly hair; someone either stole his car or Nagakura was careless to whom he lent it."

After all, if the – apparently – dirty cop who did this put the man up to introducing himself as Nagakura Shinpachi that only meant he went to great lengths to incriminate him or that because it was easy to disprove that, keep his own hands clean. And he very much doubted he found a thug with the exact same name. What were the odds of that? Of course, whoever the brain behind this was, that facilitated this flight-risk criminal to escape, had no idea a lawyer would happen upon their escape or that said lawyer would be friendly with a person who knows the detective being impersonated.

Maybe this was a step in the right direction for them, too. Hopefully.

"So, it isn't him?"

"No way. What's the status on your criminal?"

"He's finishing his second beer—he drinks very fast. And he just told them he'll be heading to the airport."

"He's in a hurry that's why," Saitou muttered darkly. "He didn't make you, did he?"

"Hajime, I know what he looks like from mugshots and photos—he never saw my face."

"Thank Buddha."

"Just drive; if anything changes, I'll call you again."

For the second time that day, she hang up on him. He could have smothered her, really. But he just kept driving. Until she called, another five minutes later. "Hajime, he's leaving. He stood and he's heading out the door with three more people." She pretended to sigh over something Saitou said on the phone to have an excuse to look out the window. "Yeah, he's entering the car. They are driving away in ten, nine, eight—nope, now! Hajime, hurry! They went left—hurry, hurry!"

"I'm almost there; go pay for your drink and come outside."

"Okay, I'm going right now."

"I'm close, don't hang up again; are you using your bluetooth?"

"Yeah, called you when I connected it. Why?"

He didn't answer; he waited for her transaction to be completed. "You'll see. I am about to take the turn to the bar; are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm wearing my jacket as we speak."

"Tie your scarf well and bundle up; I'm there."

"I'm out."

"I see you. Don't hang up."

She kept looking left and right anxiously; where was he, where was he, where was—? Her brain came to a screeching halt three seconds later, when a large, black motorcycle, savouring something of a what a biker gang would give its members, stopped right in front of her. The driver, wearing a helmet, deceptively resembled Saitou who, in his left hand, held a second helmet.

"Get on. We don't have much time."

She gawked just as he handed her the helmet. At least that explained why he asked for her clothes.

"...I never rode a bike before."

"One leg at a time. First the helmet, then the leg. Come on."

Her hesitation was outweighed by her sense of urgency and she hopped on. "Hold on tight." She grabbed his own leather jacket from the sides. He shook his head. "Tight Tokio." She simply applied more pressure. "Never mind."

He actually grabbed both of her hands and put them firmly on his middle. "Tight," he spelled out for her and kept her hands in place for a second before letting go. "Now we're leaving." First gear was in and the started; she yelped, but otherwise held on as he showed her. Good start. "I think Kansai is the best choice because it's the most suited for international travel but Central isn't that bad of an idea."

"Kansai for me, too; can't see him going from Kyoto to Tokyo to catch another flight and Central has more Japanese people than tourists. He wouldn't want to run into anyone that knows him."

"I'll take that road then; I'll try to keep an eye out for them."

"Me, too."

"You better keep them closed coz I'm about to go very fast; you'll get scared."

"No, I won't."

"You will."

"I won't."

"Suit yourself."

He accelerated without warning; inertia pulled her back but she held on – a little too tight, he felt her nails digging into him – and fell forward. "This is why you need to hold on properly. Also, don't put all of your weight on me, I can't maneuver as I like."

"Got it." She made the mistake of looking away from his back then and felt getting dizzy. "We're going too fast..."

"Of course we are. We have to outrun them. They mustn't see us follow them or they'll just run away." After some explicit language from her part, he chuckled. "Don't worry; I have my ins. End call."

Her line went dead; she flinched. What was it with this person? Why couldn't he just say goodbye?

She should stop complaining though; after all, she was more than grateful to him: he was very dependable. The more she stared at his broad shoulders, the guiltier she felt; quick on his feet, too, came at a very short notice. It was knew to her, to have someone she could rely on. No man at the firm cared to make her life easy and the women—poor women, much like her, had to try their one hundred and fifty percent just to get by.

Suddenly, her phone rang; it jolted her! She used her shoulder for resistance and pressed the button with her head, against the helmet.

"We just passed by them; it's safe to assume they are going the same way. Be aware, it's a long ride, at least a couple of hours. I do have people alerting me to their movements, but it's more than likely we'll stop only once we reach Kansai."

"Got it."

"I'll focus on the road; if you need anything just tug on my clothes, I'll call."

"Fair enough."

It took two and a half hours to reach their destination; they made two stops along the way and three phone calls. The first was to tell her his contacts assured him the car was going their way, the second brought on by her to ask him to rest on her own and the third was when they were almost there.

"We can't be seen together at the airport, he may have eyes there, too. I'll drop you off near the airport where I arranged for a cub to pick you up. You'll show up alone. Try not to attract too much attention to yourself."

"Won't it be better if I do?"

"Explain."

"I'll try to get him to talk me up; men tend to forget to look around them when flirting. That way, while he tries to make a good impression, you swoop in and arrest him."

"Tokio, don't flirt with the criminal."

"But it's the fastest way."

"...I do not approve of, but I can't stop you either. Do whatever you like." A beat of silence. "How do you know he'll hit on you anyway?"

"Hajime, be serious; I had two cases where he raped two women and I know what both look like. I'm his type...give or take."

"That is a horrible premise," he deadpanned.

"I'll be fine."

Five minutes later, when the artificial land of the Kansai International Airport came into view, they pulled over. A taxi came and picked her up as promised, just as Saitou sped away. Upon arrival, she saw him. He was standing by his bike, leaning on it in fact, with a devil may care attitude. He was having a smoke, looking all around him supposedly idle, but she knew, in fact he was looking out for both her and the criminal. She resisted the urge to smile, wave, or even wink at him and simply walked through the doors that lead inside, sparing him only a glance. He stroke quite the pose though, she had to admit, it was a shame she had to go inside.

The wait was long and grueling. She actually called Hajime and asked when their targets would be arriving and his answer was, no Honda could ever match the speed of his bike. No car, in fact, unless it was a racing one. So she simply hang up and proceeded to stare at her glass in sad contemplation.

Until, about an hour later, her phone rang; she had disconnected her bluetooth, thinking it would look suspicious.

"He'll be here in a short while. Be ready."

"Do me a favour. Just as you see the Honda coming in, call me. Take out the bluetooth and let me say whatever I want. I have an idea."

"Okay, but don't speak too much."

"Yes, detective, I know. Bye now; thanks for the heads up."

She immediately stood and went for the bathroom. She looked at her reflection and only after making sure she's completely alone did she make the necessary alterations to her appearances: she renewed her make up, making sure her lips were a bright red and her eyes the smokiest she could make them. She took off her scarf, then, stuffing it in her bag. She ruffled her hair to make it look much wilder than usual and then tied it in a hasty bun; casual, but sexy. She even tightened her bra, just to make her breasts look perkier.

Satisfied with the way she looked, she walked out. Just then, Saitou called.

"Showtime; close your ears, it'll get loud," was all the warning she gave and suddenly, the entire hall heard her scream at her phone.

She walked to the front, where she was previously sat, and watched the criminal come in...with no custody. Oh? Interesting. Even better.

"What do you mean you're not coming, _you asshole_? I tripped over myself to reach the airport in time and you're saying you changed your fucking mind? To _hell_ with you! You good for nothing gangster! After all we said, after all you promised— **you promised**! How dare you get cold feet now?"

By now, she was sure he had his attention; he was glancing her way more often than proper and when she turned a certain way to show off her assets, she noticed she captured his interest, too. Perfect. Time for the big ploy.

"You are a coward; don't ever call me again! Lose my number and go back to your boring wife and eat her sensible, unseasoned food for the rest of your miserable life! Maybe her big doe eyes can set you on the right path, **bastard**. No. Never contact me again. Never, ever, you **ASSHOLE**!"

She hang up. After that, she almost smashed her phone on the ground but pretended to catch herself in time and instead kicked the chair! As if the entire airport wasn't big enough for her, she started looking for somewhere to go; she decided the bar was the best option and made a beeline for it. With the edge of her eye, she watched him follow her there.

Plan, success!

"Hey there," he started barely a minute after she sat and flagged down the bartender "want me to buy you that drink?"

Alright, she needed to be convincing as this wild woman persona she made for herself. Raising an eyebrow, she looked at him with contempt. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet."

"So why are you here?"

"To introduce myself: Hiroshi; pleasure."

Wow, he gave his real name; she pretended to be thinking it over, playing hard to get. "...name's Setsuna," she shared with cautiousness.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."

She snorted, cutting him off. "I wasn't being quiet."

He smirked. "True; so, I heard you are now officially single again. And at an airport with a will to travel abroad, but no companion. Why don't you come with me instead? I'm going to leave the country anyway." A pause, to look her over seductively. "I have no need for a boring woman...and you don't look boring at all."

Her lips slowly curled into a smirk, eyes suggestive. "And where are you going, Hiroshi?"

"No set destination; what about you?"

"Hawaii or New York. We hadn't decided yet."

"Definitely Hawaii; I'd _kill_ to see you in a bikini."

Before Tokio had the time to act surprised and flattered by his comment and he to touch her in any kind of way, he jolted when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to look back just as surprised as Tokio wanted to act.

"Sir," a familiar voice accompanied said hand and Tokio had to fight not to smile again "I need you to step away from the bar and the woman, right now; hands where I can see them."

The handcuffs were produced before the criminal had the time to protest with a "What the fuck is—?"

"Your name is Handa Hiroshi, wanted and convicted for various crimes; you're on my list, sir. Now stop resisting; you're under arrest."

Saitou, just as leather-bound and devil-may-care as she remembered him from the airport's entrance, who could have easily been a fellow criminal rather than a cop, was arresting an obviously shocked and confused Hiroshi. He was no idiot of course; he might have been paying attention to the perp's hands and actions, but he also kept an eye out for suspicious behaviour around him.

So far, one person caught his eye: a foreign woman, dressed to impress, with luggage next to her...that looked a little too heavy to be carried by one small woman, thinner than his nephew. And yet, as soon as all this happened, she took out her phone, stood and pretended to be heading for the exit with not one, but two huge red suitcases, both stacked with a matching duffle bag.

If those weren't empty, he'd eat his gun; she was definitely a lookout...or the strongest woman in the planet.

"Convicted?" Tokio echoed, supposedly shocked. "What sort of crimes?"

"Madam, stay in your stool and stop asking questions; we'll need your deposition, but the less you know, the better."

"Let me go, bastard!"

"Stop resisting arrest or I'll have more to charge you with. Let's go."

The airport security swarmed the scene a little after and escorted them to a safe room; some time later, but impressively fast, considering the closest precinct was almost half an hour away, Osaka police came at half past twelve; until all the witnesses were interviewed and they had taken Tokio's deposition, and the criminal was properly booked – Hajime scared the uniforms into keeping him under lock and key until he came to interview him personally or called – the clock read two o clock in the morning.

"Let's just go..." Hajime almost complained and tried to drag her away.

"Where—home?" He nodded. "Are you _serious_?" That took him by surprise. "I still have two days left on my leave, so I can oversleep...but **you** can't. You work early. If we leave now, you'll be home at four—two hours of sleep at best. You'll be a mess. Not to mention you'll be driving for the most part of the night."

"I'll be home at five actually, but so be it; I don't m—" She slapped his chest with the back of her hand; he blinked. "Tokio, what in earth?"

"I already feel guilty as it is, I don't want to cause an actual accident, too. Look, this is what we'll do: we're gonna go to Osaka, have a nice dinner because I haven't had a bite of anything since seven and then we're gonna drink a bunch of teas and coffees! That'll keep us awake enough to drive back home; you'll leave me at a bus stop and you're gonna go straight to work. You'll just have to leave on time to come home and sleep the rest of the day away."

"We were supposed to work on the case in the afternoon."

"Hajime, it's alright; it can wait one day. Besides," she elbowed him "we just made great headway! Right? We're on the right track."

He considered for a moment. Many thoughts went through his head but finally, he decided on a course of action. "Fine. Let's go."

Naturally, his plan was thwarted by her stubbornness. Just as they approached the turn for Osaka, while on the road, he passed by it without taking it. She realised and started pulling on his clothes with a vengeance; he tried to ignore her but when she almost made him lose balance, he had to begrudgingly stop and address her problem.

"I'm not getting on," was all she said, hands crossed once she jumped off the bike. Seeing this wasn't a car he could simply shove her in, he accepted his fate. She made him promise and only then did she get back on. Just as she'd suggested, they went to Osaka for some food and drink.

Once the clock read half past four, they got on the road and finally headed home.

It was when they had just entered Kyoto, she tugged on his clothes again. "You passed my stop," she informed him when he called.

"I won't drive you home but I won't leave you on the street; it's still early."

"Hajime...!"

He chuckled. "Don't fret; it's a solution you'll agree to."

She remained silent for the rest of the trip, accepting his words at face value. And when they pulled up at his house, at six fifteen in the morning, she finally saw what his alternative plan had been. She got off, frozen from the cold and the fact she wasn't wearing anything proper for the weather at this time of the year to be on a bike, she shook and jumped up and down in her spot until he emerged from the garage.

They walked up the stairs and Rai almost knocked both of them over. "I know bud, sorry."

The dog paid no attention to Tokio for at least over three minutes but once he was satisfied with his owner's affection, he did turn to her to smother her in big and smothering kisses.

"I'll go have a shower, change and go to work; you stay here, sleep and take Rai out for a walk." He pointed at his keys on the table. "Take them; you don't have to lock when you leave, my landlady is always here this time of day. I don't like leaving Rai alone for more than five hours and since I hadn't called his walker for today because I thought I would be able to walk him, you'll have to be here; we are going to meet at eight so, do the math. He mustn't eat anything other than his dry food and his dental sticks. Take some of the pills I have in the first drawer in the dresser; people have been poisoning dogs lately, don't want anything happening to him. Don't do anything stupid. But other than that, make yourself at home."

She nodded, sleepy, but mildly impressed, too. She hadn't pegged him for the type of person who would easily open up his home to others. If Okita did this, she wouldn't be surprised. But to offer her his key and trust her with his dog...she felt her face flush. Nodding modestly, almost numb, she headed straight for the couch.

"Idiot; use the bed," he teased as he headed for his bedroom. "I have a guest room you know."

"This is cozier..." she murmured and even without needing to gesture, the large dog came and lay next to her. All that fur surrounding her, she didn't even need a blanket. Still, he covered her with one before he went for his shower. "You didn't have to," she said half-asleep half-awake.

He simply shook his head and went ahead per schedule.

.

.

"Hey."

"Oh my god, Saitou Hajime is calling me all on his own." He clicked his tongue but was secretly amused by her reaction. "What could he possibly want?"

"I just finished with work; we're still meeting up right? I have good news to share, too."

His "bribe" made her chuckle. "Yes we are; what else do you want?"

"Your location."

"I'm at your place; come quick, detective. Your dog missed you."

A bark and a giggle accompanied her words; taken aback by the news, he hang up, looking at his phone. Today was a day full of surprises...but they wouldn't stop there, not at all. When he came back, he was greeted by a most peculiar sight: his house was in order.

What the hell?

"Welcome back," he heard her sing-song voice all the way from the kitchen "come inside, close the door. You're letting all the heat out."

Rai came to lick his face; he petted his head, to make him settle down and very much confused, kicked off his shoes and walked inside. He's letting the what out? "Did you turn on the gas?"

"I sure did; your place reaches freezing temperatures up here, I'm telling you."

He tried to protest, but upon a closer look, damn, his floors were clean. He looked at the cupboards and their colour was...lighter than he remembered. What the hell?

"Also, I had a lot of free time, so I cleaned up some of the things I bet you never bothered with in the entire house; but I didn't go into your bedroom for that, obviously. I have boundaries."

"No you don't, but go on. What did you do with the dog?"

"Oh! Well, I opened my eyes around eight for the first time so I woke up and took Rai out to do his business. I came back, put some clothes in the washer, tidied up a bit, made myself breakfast and then took him out for his big walk, around half past nine. We went to the park, he was a good dog," Rai barked "listened well. Only thing he did was he tried to attack another doggie, but he stopped, so that ended well. Then we came back around twelve and he was really tired so I decided that after hanging up the clothes was the best moment for me to go over my place." He stared. "What? Can't leave clothes in the washing machine, they'll start to smell. Anyway, I took a bath there, changed, and came back immediately, don't worry. Oh, I bought some groceries, because you had nothing in your fridge other than take out and beer and I wanted to cook. Your clothes are all dry and pressed by the way, just finished with them half an hour ago. And now, food is almost ready, I put it in the oven for the finishing touches as soon as you called, so go clean up and change or whatever, it's time to eat."

He opened his mouth to speak; nothing came out. She wasn't even looking at him anymore or the entire time she spoke, she was making salad and some side dishes. But she did sense his prolonged presence and turned to him. "What? Go already! I bet you're hungry right?"

He blinked. "Tokio, what the hell?"

"Pardon?"

"I didn't tell you to stay so you...do everything. You didn't have, need to, just, when and why? I..."

She chuckled. "Look, I had nothing to do; two weeks leave? Come on. My house is spotless, my cases are taken care of and I'm on top of all of the developing ones. Now, I could either do all that or just read a book. But I've read many books; and your house really needed the makeover. You need to clean more often. Or better. Why don't you have a woman?"

He blinked again.

"I have one; she helps when I can't take care of the house. Since you seem to be the very definition of a bachelor, hire one, to come over once a week. No big deal."

Okay, his mind went completely in another direction. Thank god she had gone back to her preparations and didn't witness the dumb look on his face. But finally, he felt like himself again and shook his head. "If I do that, my landlady will kill me; I call her that, but she's actually a friend of mom's and she's been begging me to ask her for help for ages. But I don't want to."

"Well, naturally; tell her she's not a cleaning lady. But that's what you need."

He snorted. "That's worse because then she'll try to set me up with every single, eligible woman of my age she knows and I have no intention of going through any of that."

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that." He raised an eyebrow; she said that in a way just now. He went closer to her and Tokio averted her eyes. "I am under the impression _she_ is under the impression we're dating." He stared harder. "While I was hanging the clothes she asked for my name, made all sorts of cute little comments and how finally there's a woman in the house and it will finally be in order and how your mother would be happy and I just...smiled? I think I nodded, too, I don't remember. She had a...cheer about her and I couldn't disprove her."

"Tokio...!"

"I'm so sorry, she looked so happy! She even gossiped about the bike, how I should keep you off of it and it isn't as cools as it seems, I'm so sorry. She was really sweet."

Great; as if it wasn't enough she thought they were together from when they walked the dog, now this.

"And she also said that it was great the dog liked me because you are very attached to him and then...gave me a recipe and I sort of made it."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. "You _made_ it? The thing that's in the oven? Is it stew?" She nodded guiltily. Her whiny "I'm sorry" was ignored. "Is it lamb?" She nodded, even more guilty. "Damn it. What else did you tell her?"

She stopped working her hands, salads ready. She turned to look at him. "Before you say anything mean, keep in mind, she was really sneaky. She didn't start with the comments before I told her, but—"

"What did you tell her."

"—everything." He closed his eyes for a moment again. "I'm really sorry, but I had no idea where she was going with it! I didn't mean to affect your relationship with her, I'm really sorry."

"Tokio, you're not affecting my relationship with her; you're affecting my reputation. You just—you're taking over my dog, you're taking over my home, you're taking over my entire life." he spelled out for her, torn between angry and impressed. "Stop. Please, just stop."

"I'm not taking over your—don't be ridiculous, I am...I'm not..."

"You told her you slept over, didn't you? And she saw you walking Rai, too. That's why she told you about the stew."

"The lamb stew?"

"Yeah," he nearly barked and looked to the side "it's my favourite dish." Seeing he didn't know whether to be furious or laugh, she mimicked his behaviour. "Yeah, well, you've better made it terrible, 'cause if I like it, I'm going to kill you. I'll kill you both."

"I mean, I'm a good cook...can we change the conditions a bit?"

" _ **Both**_." She fought to keep quiet. "Just set the table," he sighed, giving in "and we'll talk about what I found out after we eat."

Dinner was a quiet affair; it consisted of them eating and him glaring at her almost after every mouthful.

It wasn't fair, she made it very close to what his mother always did. He wanted to smother her with his bare hands...! And then thank her. It was very tasty damn it, why did she have to be so talented all around? She even went the extra mile to help him but it all served just to anger him more because, yes, obviously he lacked the time or care to do basic chores and yes, it felt very satisfying to come home and see they were all done and that his house was actually clean after a very long time. Of course he'd like it!

He didn't mind she did it, he minded _she_ did it.

Why did it have to be her? Why did he have to come home and find her wearing an apron he didn't even know his mother had stashed somewhere in his kitchen shelves happily cooking away?

He...

He liked it. He had been married what felt like an eon ago, but this was one of the parts he always loved and now missed the most: coming back to a nice, well-kept home, to a woman, cooking. In his mind, it conveyed affection and a very clear way to show that you cared. One of the reasons he began to realise Yaso was drifting away was that she stopped preparing him dinners, stopped taking care of the house, stopped asking him about work...she always just said she was busy with some of her friends who needed her help about a venture or two, but she never took the time to look for a housekeeper, or make sure she had whipped up something, no. She just didn't care. And that wasn't her character from the start, so something must have changed.

And now that the practices returned, even for a day, without an actual relationship preceding it, it put him all out of sorts. He was a creature of habit after all and now everything was thrown into chaos. Even after they finished their food, she stood, cleared the table and started washing the dishes. It was...eerie.

"So what did Nagakura-san say about the car?"

That snapped him out of it.

"I informed him confidentially and he almost punched the wall; said he had actually lost both set of his keys and couldn't move it for two days but, guess what, today he found them." She nodded, knowingly, giving him a sly look. "They magically appeared back in his locker, just in another place. He thought he misplaced them by accident, but apparently, it was all according to plan. We asked Hijikata and he gave us permission to search the precinct's records of the security cameras...we found the culprit. It was a lowlife that managed to get there undetected. Nagakura promised to arrest him by the end of the week and once he does, we'll make him spill. We searched for who left the keys, but we couldn't find anything. But we're on a very good track."

"That's just what we needed." She turned the water on again, dishes done, to clean her hands from the bubbles. "Anyone you suspect he may be linked to?"

"While I was booking Hiroshi yesterday, he said something interesting; I called to follow up on him today and they informed me he killed himself in his cell."

Her chin hang; he understood her shock. "But that only means whatever he said is all the more real. And now it's confirmed: there are more suspects than one."

She heaved a deep sigh and went close to him. "That's some news."

"What's best is I followed up on a hunch and they may be connected." She tilted her head, curious. "There's a coworker who's been acting shady lately and he was most definitely involved in this...and I think I have it on tape."

"That's amazing."

"You bet. I just need to find a way to get him alone and talk to him. If I could do that, case closed."

She hummed. "I see..."

He tried not to smirk then. "Tokio, will you keep doing this for long?"

"What, am I allowed to sit in your lap only when I'm wearing stripper clothes?"

He nodded sagely; she hit him on the chest. "But right now you're only wearing a low cut blouse—that's not very daring, is it?"

"Next time I'll combine it with a short skirt and my other stockings, see if it qualifies."

He shook his head. "How many of those do you have?"

"They aren't identical, but the concept is the same," she admitted through chuckles. "Now," she sobered "I washed your dishes, there's plenty of food left in the over and I found some Tupperware for you to put it in, in portions. Your house is clean, your clothes are fresh; you're all set. So, I'm going to go now."

"What, really?"

"Hajime, it's half past eight already; you have to walk Rai, I bet you'll want to look at some files of your own case—two hours will have gone by easily. And you didn't sleep a wink yesterday; you need the rest."

He nodded, feeling the exhaustion slowly creeping up on him. The coffees did their job while he was at work but now that he's eaten well, he started getting sleepy. Maybe she was right.

"Let's reschedule, okay? I tortured you enough," she joked then "I am satisfied."

He whistled then, scaring her for a second but it served its purpose: Rai came bounding in the kitchen two moments later, with the leash in his mouth. "We'll walk you to the station," he informed her "you came by train right? I didn't see your car anywhere."

"Yeah, I didn't drive."

"Ten minutes to the stop; another ten to come back. Twenty minutes seems like a good walk for the night. Right Rai?" The dog tilted his head in question; Hajime nodded wisely as Tokio scratched behind his ears. "Come on," he slapped her thigh "get up." She did, heading straight for her coat and shoes. "And, despite my complains, thanks for everything. I do appreciate it."

"You're welcome. And I'm sorry if I caused trouble with your mother's friend. I really didn't want to. In fact I was trying...to show you my gratitude. Not many people would have done what you did. Thank you." She looked to the side. "I know I tend to be overly demanding; I do. The fact you not only put up with me, but also help, means a lot. And I want you to know that. So, thank you and I'm sorry."

For a moment, he saw her in another light. It was satisfying to hear her thanks but to know she knew her own flaws so well and did all she could to make it up to him...was sweet. He shook his head, trying to shake the creeping smile away at the same time. "I'll worry about it tomorrow, once I've had enough sleep."

"Maybe once you do, it won't feel like a very big deal...!"

"Doubtful," he remarked, trying to keep her in check. "Come on Rai, we are leaving."

The dog stopped right in front of him so he could leash him. Hajime grabbed his own coat, put on his shoes and all three descended the stairs.

"Hey!" the voice of the landlady was heard the moment they passed in front of her door; huh, she was lurking in the shadows, was she. "How was the food?"

"Oh, it turned out delicious! I did the thing you told me with the bay leaves and it worked;" Hajime started pushing her to walk faster, hopefully stopping her from talking to the woman "but I added a little bit of cinnamon, too because those two go very well together and it really worked—you should try it, too!"

"That sounds actually delicious," she mused out loud.

"It is! Add a spoonful but rub it on the lamb."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a good cook, move."

She chuckled and waved at the older woman. "Bye Misses Yamaguchi!"

"Bye sweetheart."

The moment they were out of earshot, he glared. "You weren't supposed to make things worse."

"I didn't; and she's really nice...!"

"I'm really going to kill you."

"You left your gun at home, right?" He nodded. "Then I'm not worried."

"Tokio, if I ever decide to kill you, God as my witness, I'd never use the gun, but my bare hands."

She snorted. "Good luck with that—I'm very slippery."

He decided to drop it there, because he knew the conversation would devolve into something incredibly stupid, or strangely enough, a pissing contest. This woman was hell bent on proving to everyone she was the best at everything she did and apparently she did a lot. He simply changed the subject and chose to let her rant about unrelated things; he recently noticed it put him mind at ease.

.

.

"Hajime, are you still forgetting your scarf? It's Christmas!"

He rolled his eyes. "I don't get easily cold," he repeated exasperated maybe for the hundredth time since November 20th, "nor were we supposed to meet in the middle of the street at nine in the afternoon."

"I can see your tie; if I can see your tie that means your neck is exposed; and that means you might catch a cold. Speaking of tie, Hajime, why don't you ever tie your tie properly? This is ridiculous."

"Really? Again with the tie?" He shook his head, unable to fathom how this person could be so obsessive with certain things. "Just move."

But she didn't; instead, she turned to face him fully, still very much in the middle of the street – well, pavement anyway – and huffed. "Hajime, you must learn how to do your knot properly." She actually grabbed the offending piece of fabric and yanked it out of the coat.

"Tokio, you can't be serious;" he started tapping his foot, hands crossed "we have to hurry, it's almost Christmas and Okita is expecting me at eleven."

"Are you suddenly Christian? Who cares if we are a little late? And stop that." Even with gloves on, she persevered. "Just let me fix this."

"It's not about the religion, but punctuality."

"If you weren't late to come here on the first place, this wouldn't be an issue. And would you stop that."

Surprisingly, he did. "If you hadn't told me last minute about it, I wouldn't be late."

"For the love of—my boss told me last minute, too! Don't think I had any more time than you to get ready just because I look like this."

"We are going to interview a witness damn it, not run for a pageant! You could have gotten ready for your family dinner after."

"I'll be going straight to my parents, so it wasn't an option—ugh, damn these things!"

She literally bit her gloves and then dragged them off of her hands, keeping them in her mouth. She could finally perform the dexterous motions the tie required and did it as she wanted. She had forgotten her gloves were still in her mouth because she dropped them the moment she exclaimed an exuberant "there! Oops," she bent down to pick them up.

"You are so weird."

"You are so obnoxious...!" Once she did, she wore them. "Now we can go."

"Finally."

They started walking towards Saitou's car, which was parked not five metres away; the look of satisfaction on Tokio's face made him seethe all over, but he bore with it and even deigned to open the door for her.

Yaso, who had happened to walk by that intersection on her way to the limo waiting for her remained perfectly still, looking at them from afar. Their voices didn't carry over to her; all she saw was two well-dressed people, arguing in the middle of the street for insignificant things while the woman waged war with the man's tie.

And that's when she finally accepted it: Hajime was attached, to someone other than her, too. Looking at them like this from afar, left no room for doubt. The realisation hit her like a bolt of lightening and something weird happened to her insides. But, instead of accepting defeat, another feeling was born in her heart altogether: jealousy; and that was an inescapable after affect of possessiveness which only led to frustration...and resolution. The resolution that this young thing would not take him, discarded or not. Yaso was better than her and she would prove it as if her life depended on it.

Determined, she recommenced walking to her limo, trying to figure out how to go about this the best way possible. Heh. She'd steal him back, even if she didn't know what she was supposed to do with him. This woman had no right coming into his life, not when Yaso was still calling him. That would teach her—both of them: She was not someone easy to get over.

.

December 27, the Kyoto police became everyone's focus. The evening news, the evening newspapers as well as the entire internet blew up with a huge scandal about corruption in its ranks. The names of not one, but two detectives being caught up in it made the full rounds; every source made sure to inform both of these people were fired and were soon to be jailed, too...but not one mentioned the names of the ones who uncovered the truth.

That was a well-coordinated effort from Saitou, Okita and Tokio as well as Hijikata and surprisingly, Tokio's firm. All of them wanted to protect the identities of the implicated in case anyone got any ideas of retaliation, especially since, as Saitou reminded everyone, the ones running this corruption ring were never found. Takeda, spilled about the other one they caught, hoping it would reduce his sentence, but the other one, Itou Kashitaro, was a smart bastard and kept his mouth shut throughout the entire process. Thus, the trail went cold and momentarily stopped.

"We're gonna pick it up again, of course, but for now, let them think we are none the wiser," Saitou advised a fuming Tokio.

"Our names were never mentioned in his interrogation nor was there ever any indication anyone suspected us," Okita corroborated "we can keep fighting the good fight; we just need a break to arrest this bastard who killed all these people—our original cold case."

"And with Takeda and Itou behind bars, their cases more people will be willing to help. All those who fell victim to their schemes and didn't help voluntarily will come forward easily. They just need a little pressure...and I know just how to apply it."

"Sexy," Okita teased and Tokio winked.

"Idiots."

Tokio sobered a little too abruptly though. "Speaking of idiots, I remembered...I have something I need to tell you."

"What is it Tokio-chan? You sound so serious...!"

"Well, my bosses congratulated me for my efforts, said I did something monumental for this firm and the city of Kyoto undoubtedly and how this only goes to show what a great lawyer I am...but no one likes getting caught up in cases like these. I explained that that's where the case took us; they said they understood." A pause. "And told me to stop."

Both detectives' eyes grew a significant margin, whether it being from shock or concealed anger.

"I am expected to hold my end of the deal and withdraw only once the second case is closed, too but, they'd rather I stayed, for the most part, out of it. Then they went on to threaten my prospects and how they were going to bury me under corporate law for as long as they could and whatnot, but that's insignificant, they do it all the time."

There was a silence stretching between them then, not awkward but certainly full of tension. Tokio had folded in on herself, looking sad and away; Okita and Saitou kept exchanging glances and appeared to be having an entire conversation conveyed through looks and breathing patterns.

"That's terrible," Okita finally decided to say "how can they be so selfish?"

"They are lawyers," Saitou retorted "the real question was how they allowed this to happen on the first place." He snorted. "Goddamn it. We were doing really good."

"I mean, you were very excited about this collaboration, too—even if you happed upon Saitou in the process."

"Idiot," both Saitou and Tokio supposedly insulted him at the same time but she went on. "Yeah, well...I can't do anything about it. Only try and change their mind. Which I will try but, I don't hold my breath." She shook her head. "Let's not dwell on that! I only told you because I had to; let's focus on this Sakaguchi bastard who needs to be put in jail, too. Many people are waiting to find peace with his arrest, let's give it to them."

"I'll go talk to Furuta again," Okita declared "I have a feeling he'll be more willing to share what happened now that his job could be on the line."

"And I'll subpoena Sakaguchi's medical records on the nights of the murders again."

"I know what to do;" he turned to Tokio "just make sure you get that in writing for me asap."

"Yessir."

She did the military salute, like many times before and he couldn't help but linger. He liked this person. It would be a shame not to be around her anymore. The truth Okita omitted was that Hijikata decided to put their internal affairs promotion on hold in order to pick up the slack from Takeda and Itou; not just them though, Toudou and Nagakura would be affected, too—the load was enormous after all. So, it would take at least another year for them to leave their current position, unless something huge happened, thus, they'd definitely be together for a while longer.

And despite really wanting that promotion, Hajime hadn't minded the hold up; and he found out she had played a big part in it. But this now? Not how he planned it. With dread, he came to the conclusion he liked working with her and now he no longer would, he was sour. A little pissed, too. Heh, this is what he got for trusting lawyers. Just because Tokio turned out to be a decent person didn't mean the rest of her bosses were, too.

What a mess.

.

.

"Congratulations on your case, Saitou, Okita" Hijikata praised his men, an unreadable expression on his face. "You closed your first cold case, using the term liberally. Well done. Sakaguchi is now safely behind bars and it is all thanks to you two and your lawyer."

They nodded. "Thank you, Hijikata-san," they chorused.

"You and your lawyer did a lot of damage to certain people, too, quite impressive; you have to introduce her to me."

"Well, you better hurry with that Hijikata-san, because her bosses say they no longer want her playing with us." Okita actually pouted, hands crossing stubbornly. "They say our next case is the last one."

"Really? That's odd; because these two just came in for you. They are from Tokio's firm."

Hijikata held up two very expensive-looking, cream envelopes, with no markings or designs on them other than their engraved names respectively. The two detectives looked at one another curious. "They arrived with courier while you were working on the case."

"What are they?"

"We'll read them, idiot," Saitou snubbed his friend and grabbed them out of his superior's hands. He gave the one to Okita and opened his. Ugh, it was actually scented; how extravagant. But as his eyes slid on the paper, the more they grew and started glancing at his friend. "Is...are they...is this serious?"

Hijikata shrugged. "If it's on there..."

"Why are they inviting us to their New Year's party? They want nothing to do with us," Okita almost threw the piece of paper to the trash out of sheer frustration. "I'm not going."

"You can't go anyway, you moron; remember how you have to be here for information on the second case?"

"Yeah," he admitted and something told Saitou that was why Okita made such a grand declaration of not going. "What about you?"

"I don't know; I don't feel like going but I fear what will happen to me when I dare tell her that."

Okita broke out in laughter; Hijikata did a double take. "She's a little opinionated," Okita made sure their superior knew "and likes getting her way."

"All the time."

"And she'll want to have at least one of us there, in her effort to change her bosses' minds."

"So if I dare, say, ruin her plans because of my "antisocial tendencies" as she puts it, you'll never find my body."

"Now I _really_ want to meet her."

Saitou rolled his eyes; he didn't even know her and was already siding with her; not him, too! What did he do to deserve this? "I'm sure you'll get the chance, sooner or later."

Okita's smile became sly. "Drop by his apartment, sir, I bet she'll be there."

The man leaned forward, hands on the sides of his armchair. "Are you two sleeping together?"

Saitou couldn't understand if Hijikata was scandalised or in a gossiping mood. He decided he didn't care. "She comes by for work. If it gets too late, she sleeps on the couch. That's all."

Hijikata clicked his tongue. "How boring."

Saitou looked all around him to make sure he was still in Hijikata's office, or in this reality altogether, because that comment did not match that man. Just as he was about to protest or make any sort of sound, though his phone rang. Like the child he was, Okita peaked over his shoulder to see who was calling.

"It's her! Answer, Saitou, answer."

"I'll call her b—"

"Answer," Hijikata agreed "that's an order."

Well, it looked like everyone was against him today; almost huffing, he answered the damn phone. "What do you want?" But he wouldn't do them the favour to stay in there, no; he walked out of there, even if, naturally, their eyes followed him.

"Did you receive the invitations?"

"Yes; that's suspicious timing. Are you watching us?"

She clicked her tongue. "I've better things to do with my time, Hajime; are you coming?"

He tried not to smile. "No."

There was a moment of silence. Then, she spoke again. "I'm giving you ten seconds to rethink that answer and give me a proper one."

"Okita can't come, he has to attend _our_ New Year's Eve party for info." He heard her swear under her breath and did smile. "I, on the other hand, don't want to."

That must have irked her. "Saitou Hajime, I swear to everything I hold dear, I will personally come and pick you up in your pajamas if I have to; you're coming and that's final. This is a great opportunity to introduce you to real people from work, not just the pig. The pig doesn't count." She sighed. "I know you don't like lawyers but soldier through it; there'll be other type of guests, too: you, for instance."

"No."

"Hajime, you don't understand, you **can't** say no." His amused "I just did though," was ignored. "I had to _fight_ for those invitations, don't make me fight you, too because you I don't mind physically attacking. And I know where you live, just remember that."

"Your threats are amusing but not effective."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"So far no bargain has been attempted."

"Fine then; I'll give you one allowance."

"Oh?"

"One thing you do that pisses me the hell of? One time, I won't even address it."

"...make it a day and we have an agreement."

"Deal. Now, do I have to tell you what you should wear or can I trust you?"

"It's a black tie event, I'm not an idiot."

"True; do you have anything like that to wear?"

"...I'll manage."

"It's in two _days_ from now, not weeks. You need to go shopping for—ah..." she sighed again. "Forget it; I'll come pick you up from work in two hours and we'll go shopping."

"We will do no such t—"

"This isn't negotiable; see you at five."

She hang up. He put his head in his hand and stood there for a long moment. "Why did I just agree to that?"

"She didn't give you much choice, I presume," Okita commented as he opened the door; both went back in. "So what did you just agree to?"

"I told her I didn't want to go to her party but she told me I had to so, naturally, I'll go. Then she asked if I had anything to wear, I said I'll manage, so, naturally, she decided we'll go shopping." Okita was laughing from the second he uttered that first "naturally" but no on expected his superior to chuckle, too. "I'm glad I amuse you."

Hijikata's face finally reverted to that neutral expression everyone knew and feared. "Saitou, want my advice on this matter?" He nodded. "Sleep with her." Two sets of eyes became large at the sound of that, staring at the man; he simply shrugged. "She already leads you around by the nose; at least have an excuse."

"This is highly inappropriate," Saitou simply stated, shaking his head, unable to believe that that's what just came out of his very serious, very proper superior's mouth.

"But you don't understand, Hijikata-san," Okita hardly spoke through the tears and the chuckles "Tokio-chan is more like me when it comes to relationships. Hajime doesn't approve."

"Okita, shut it."

But it was too late; the damage was done. Hijikata had given an impressive snort and a meaningful stare. "You saw what your _Yamato Nadeshiko_ turned out to be like, give her type a chance. She might surprise you."

"You're **both** being ridiculous. And, seeing I only I have two hours left before the slave driver comes over, I'd like to get some actual work done, I'm leaving."

.

"I'm not going in there."

They were standing in front of a large glass front which only consisted of male mannequins in different poses, dressed in suits and coats of all types and colours. Without even looking at the price tags, he could tell this was an expensive clothing store because everything just screamed luxury: from the fabrics of the clothes, to the props used to the actual decoration inside that he got to peak for three seconds.

"Yes, you are—we both are; we don't have time to tailor something and this is the next best thing."

"Tokio, I won't spend half of my savings on a three-piece. Find some place else."

She smiled. "Alright, how much are you willing to spend?"

"No more than 65.000 yen;" he finally looked at the prices "but that's the price of one pair of pants in this place."

"I understand; no need to blow so much money for a thing you'll wear probably twice in your entire life. But consider this: my coworkers are elitist bastards. And I don't want to give them the right to comment on anything like that. So, I'll make you a deal: we go in there, buy whatever we want and I spot you for anything over the 65."

"No."

"Hajime, stop being difficult! I understand you not wanting to spend a fortune but I also know the people I work with. If this was any other occasion, I wouldn't have cared, trust me." He glared. "Please?" His glare was tempered down a bit. "Pretty please?"

He looked away, still upset, but if he broke eye contact, she knew she won! She graced him with a bright smile and actually grabbed him by the arm, lest he changes his mind, to drag him inside the store. Sighing, he walked next to her.

"Welcome," the woman closest to them saluted, a small bow following "how may we help you?"

"Hello. We need something for the gentleman." Tokio had let go to display him instead and smiled.

To that, the woman nodded, and another woman came out of nowhere to take their coats. Tokio curtly nodded for him to do it, seeing he was a little hesitant.

"We want the best fit. I know it isn't tailored but I'll only tolerate _small_ imperfections. Now, I'm going to be honest: I am a difficult and maybe irritating customer so, I'd like to have your most tolerant salesperson; reserves of patience."

The woman blinked, polite smile never fading. "I see; please follow me." She showed them deeper in the store, leading towards the back. "Hiromi-chan, I would like you to help this lovely couple" Hajime glared at Tokio; she shrugged, as innocently as possible "find what they need."

"Of course." She bowed both to the older woman – Hiromi-chan was no older than twenty five – and then to them. "Pleased to meet you. My name is Hiromi and I will be your guide this evening. Please, tell me what you're looking for."

"We want a three-piece for the gentleman." Immediately, Hiromi-chan grabbed the measuring tape she had hanging around her neck and approached. "But we don't want another black suit; gray is a nice option. Cigar, maybe; or plain brown. Blue, definitely."

Hiromi hummed in agreement, as she struggled to properly measure Saitou's shoulders.

"Stay still, Hajime," Tokio advised through chuckles "the woman can't reach you." Hiromi shot her a grateful look. "I wouldn't say no to maroon, or burgundy, but that would depend, so go for milder colours."

"Excuse me sir, I will need to measure your waist, too."

"For the pants, obviously; stop squirming." She shook her head. "Like a little girl."

"I thought you said this wasn't tailored."

"Yes but the pants have waist numbers; how will this woman know what to bring you?" Hiromi shot her another grateful, almost relieved look and Tokio tried not to chuckle. "As you've undoubtedly already noticed, Hiromi-chan, he's taller than average and he may look lean, but he's deceptively muscled; we still need something to fit him near perfect though. What do you have in the colours I mentioned?"

"I have plenty; please come with me."

Saitou knew, if Tokio somehow knew his size, she wouldn't even need him for this; because the moment Hiromi started showing them suits, he had been turned into just another mannequin, whose sole job was to stand straight so these women could contrast the colours with his skin. Once that was done, which took no less than fifteen minutes – just to choose what to wear, dear Buddha – he was shooed into a dressing room and condemned to trying each and every one on.

"Why does the fabric have to be like that?" she lamented and nearly cried. "Look at the colours; look how nicely they suit you! Why does it hitch up there? And why is the fit like this, ugh!"

Hiromi shook her head in begrudging agreement. "And I really love this suit, too, one of my bestsellers."

"I'll make a note to complain to my parents for making me tall."

Tokio nearly slapped him at that, but she held back, simply glared, crossed her hands not to do anything stupid and then blew air out of her nose. Hiromi remained tactfully impassive.

"Just hurry it up," was all he said "this is the sixteenth suit I've tried."

"It's not my fault you have such broad shoulders!" He took a deep breath then, struggling not to say what he really thought of that. "Let's just try the blue one again..."

"You know," Hiromi-chan began thoughtful "the owner did tell me we can mix and match, if it comes down to it." An unsettling gleam took over Tokio's eyes. "What if we take this whiskey brown vest you both thought was perfect and combine it with the third blue pair of pants and jacket—the royal blue?"

"That sounds incredible! Hajime, go put that on. Oh, oh, wait; let's make this a complete look." She turned to Hiromi-chan. "Bring me a lighter blue shirt in his size and a nice maroon or wine red tie."

"Tokio-san," her tone was carrying a definite leave-it-to-me vibe "I have just the thing."

Not one minute later, Hiromi came back with what was asked and handed it all to a very irritated Saitou. "I believe this will be the very last thing you'll try," she tried to encourage him at the glare he shot her "if you have a problem with the tie, please call."

"He always has a problem with his tie," Tokio bit out as he retreated to the changing room and he had to try really hard not to throw her something.

He didn't call them though, and emerged after five minutes. When he did, he knew this would be the last thing he'd try indeed because instead of complains or half-smiles, he was met with absolute silence. He could tell it was the appreciative sort because slowly, both women's faces took the most satisfied expression they wore all evening and started exchanging glances repeatedly.

"Yes."

"Yes."

This "conversation" happened at least ten times between them yet every yes was spoken differently, carrying a different meaning; it would have gone on much longer, if the woman that greeted them when they arrived hadn't come to check things out. Before she managed to ask how they were doing, she looked at Saitou and her smile grew.

"Ah, I see we found what we wanted."

"Yes," the women chorused.

"Perfect. Sir, you may change, so we can fold your clothes for you." She didn't manage to finish her sentence, Saitou had turned about. The woman was surprised, but Tokio bit her lip guiltily. "These are ready to wear, as you can tell, but we also offer services to get them clean before your big event. Would you like to use it? It adds an additional 5.500 yen fee to your purchase."

"Can you have them ready by tomorrow?" The woman nodded. "Then please do so; I will personally pick them up, around eight."

"As you wish." And with that, the woman left, after nodding to Hiromi to get the clothes who waved her away.

"Thankfully, we found what we needed," she said instead to a very relieved Tokio.

"Yeah; I sort of lost hope for a moment there, but we made a comeback." They giggled. "I'll hear it once we leave though," she admitted "he hates being inconvenienced. But hey, we didn't even take an hour—two hours." She checked her clock to see it was fifteen to seven. "We even have time to spare before shops close."

"Don't even think about it," he snubbed because of course he chose that moment to be ready "I have nothing else to buy."

"Actually, you do; you need shoes to go with your new suit and a better coat."

"I'll kill you. I don't even care I have a witness, I will literally put my hands around your throat and _squeeze_." Despite his impassively spoken threat and the slight alarm on Hiromi's part, Tokio simply laughed.

"But am I wrong?"

"I actually have shoes that are more than adequate." He paused for a second, looking away. "Shoes are the one thing I spend money on. And I have a pair of cap toe oxfords that match the colour of the vest."

"You know what a cap toe oxford is but don't know whiskey brown; amazing." This is why he didn't want to reveal this; she'd tease him to death. "And coat?"

"We spent enough money as it is, let's go."

Hiromi could spot a good deal when she saw one; she smiled. "We have some very reasonably priced long and short coats that would fit him well," she addressed Tokio specifically and he really didn't appreciate how this salesperson was overriding him "of all sorts of textures and weaves."

"Please show us something very formal, long and leaning towards blue. Wouldn't say no to a brown."

"Please follow me."

"Do I get no say in this?"

"You'll thank me later."

Ten more minutes – because, he would never admit it, but that blue coat was actually amazing and he agreed not just to be quick – and 310.000 yen later, they left.

"So?" She turned to look at him quizzical. He sighed. "How much was it?"

She patted his shoulder. "What you don't know, can't hurt you."

"Oh God, that much, huh?" She offered a wide smile instead. "We still have an hour left; do you have to buy anything for yourself?" She shook her head no. "How come?"

"Hajime, I knew I'd be going to that party all year. Think I'd leave it to last minute?" Reasonable answer, he accepted it. "So, I'll come and pick up everything tomorrow and bring it to you the day after tomorrow, day of the party—I'll be already dressed. They assured me all will be in order. Have we forgotten anything?"

"To eat; I'm starving. Let's go eat something greasy." A smirk. "My treat."

Laughing, nodding, she accepted his offer.

* * *

 **A/N** : End of chapter three! Hope you enjoyed.

Now, as a side note, I wrote this last entire scene just because it's always the woman who gets this scene, you know? Where the rich man takes her out shopping and she tries all of the dresses and whatnot...I wanted it reversed just this once, lol. Also, I want you all to know, Yaso isn't just a villain in this story. She has her own problems, needs and wants and has her own arc. It's just that I enjoy this catty version of her a little too much for now, sorry.

Love you all~! Don't forget to review.

Kisses, FAI.


	18. Laws of Attraction, Part Four

**A/N** : I love you; I really love all you wonderful people of the internet. Have another update because I'm on a roll.

 **Title** : Laws of Attraction  
 **Genre:** Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe:** Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU

* * *

Rai had stopped barking whenever Tokio came around by now, much like Okita; whoever visited often, the dog would stop feeling the need to alert his owner to their presence, whether Saitou actually expected them or not. That's how he knew it was one of the two that dropped by: he heard knocking on his door, but no warning from his huge puppy.

Sighing, he walked to open it; he just knew that out of the two, it would not be his friend. He just knew. And, indeed, he was faced with none other than the short bane of his existence, smiling brightly up at him, holding two blue garment bags and one paper bag that undoubtedly contained his three-piece and coat, as well as his tie, fresh out of the cleaner's.

"I thought you said you'd come by tomorrow," was all he gave her in terms of a greeting, but did move to relieve her of her load immediately.

"I know; I did; there was a small change of plans."

He did not like how she shared that information with such a big smile. "Meaning?"

"You'll have to pick me up instead; something came up at work and I'll have to be working till late—at least three, maybe four."

"Four pm?" She nodded; he chuckled. "You still have plenty of time left."

"No I don't; I had to reschedule with everyone! I'll have my hair, my make up and my nails done by two different people."

His eyebrow rose on its own. "You? Your nails and make up done? Since when?"

She clicked her tongue. "I told you, elitist bastards; it's the one time of the year I go all out."

He shook his head amused. "Whatever; are you coming in? Or will we be having entire conversations at the door?"

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, his phone rang. But it wasn't a call, no; it was a message. He was almost shocked to hear it at this time of night. "Know what, come in for a second."

She did, closing the door behind her, but never took off her shoes. She simply stood in front of it and petted Rai with all she had, using the wooden structure as support when the dog got a little too excited. She watched as Saitou put the clothes in his bedroom; but when he emerged, there was a very annoyed look on his face.

"What is it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yaso." She almost glared. "She really doesn't know when to sto—op."

She had kicked off her shoes and made a run for it as soon as the name was spoken; without warning, she grabbed the phone out of his hands and proceeded to read the message.

"Relax."

"Know what, I wasn't planning on it, but sure, I'll stay. Go bring me a beer or something." she kept reading, scrolling up. "Why haven't you blocked her yet?"

"She keeps getting new numbers."

"Then why aren't _you_ getting a new number?"

"I'm a detective, Tokio; and she knows both my personal and work number. If she can't reach me here she'll try the other and _no one_ wants that; believe me she's done it before."

Why did this feel like an interrogation?

"Want me to make her stop? Just say the word and the restraining order is here the very next day."

"Tokio, I am more upset than you are...yet you're taking this worse than I am. Why?"

"Because she's getting audacious! Why is she texting you these things? At least you never answer other than telling her to stop but—" His message alert was heard again; she scrolled down to look at the message and her mouth hang. "Look!" She nearly pressed the screen in his face. "She just sent you a _photo_ of her in a fancy dress. Thank Buddha she isn't sexting you, I suppose." Another sound; her face fell. "Scratch that; she just did."

Tokio was shocked by the woman's actions but most of all, she was exasperated by her insistence and willingness to commit adultery. But Saitou's eyes had grown wide and seemed to need confirmation; to his credit, he never looked at the screen.

"She's in some underwear that consist mostly of lace; huh, at least she has good taste. Though white's not her colour."

"Tokio, delete them."

"No," she snapped back emphatically to offset his overly calm demeanour "this is the perfect fodder for any judge! I'm getting the damn restraining order."

"...just promise not to involve her husband; if he finds out and for one reason or the other divorces her, if she's being like this now, I hate to think what she'll do then."

"Huh; you're not wrong. Ah, damn, she's naked now." She clicked her tongue. "Doesn't she know that leaving something to the imagination is sexier, what is she doing?"

"Tokio, don't look; just delete it—at least that one."

"Don't look? I'm a woman, what's new for me? You're the one who shouldn't look," she finally withdrew the phone from his line of sight, hiding it in her chest, even if he hadn't tried to look, "not to be tempted."

He gave her a look. "I've seen her naked a thousand times; I won't give in because of that _now_."

"That's what all men say when it comes to exes," she commented annoyed and finally, his chill facade was shed and he glared. "Wait, I'll text her this: _stop sexting me; restraining order is on the way._ How about it? Sounds like you, right?"

"I don't care," he answered clipped.

"Great—aw man, she's wearing different underwear now; these ones are red. Huh. They suit her better. Well, at least she realised half-naked is preferable, good for her."

He grabbed the phone out of her hands and actually threw it on the couch. "Tokio, enough; I don't care." He sounded angry. "You shouldn't either. Now are you staying or not?"

"I'm staying," she replied just as angrily and crossed her hands as she fell on the couch. She sneakily chose the one he had thrown the phone at.

He sighed. "Will you leave before the sun rises?"

"No," she kept being curt and a little prissy "I'll stay the night." _To supervise you_ , her eyes completed what her mouth left unsaid.

"Alright...want that beer now?"

"I want to eat something, haven't eaten all day."

 _There it is; that's why she was so easily irritated_ , he mused and made a mental note to never have a conversation like this again, before her belly was full. "Let's order."

As he started browsing through fliers and suggested a couple of places, slowly her temper faded away. She wasn't lying when she said she had no intention of staying; she only did after she realised it was Yaso who texted him. That woman drove her crazy. To think she resorted to such basic tactics, how lowly and ridiculous. Then again, most of the times, these tactics worked. She had no idea why but the thought of her getting back together with him hurt her. It wasn't fair, he didn't deserve that. He deserved better...!

In reality, he never bothered with his ex-wife and he was very absolute about what he wanted: to be left alone. But the simple thought he could potentially cave unsettled her. But she didn't know why and that upset her, too because it almost felt like she was...no.

Was she?

She had no reason, so why would she be?

She looked at the phone, lying face down next to her, that dinged every time a message arrived. It was mostly pictures, other more salacious than others, with some sporadic strongly worded texts and she only knew because she dared peak at it while he was listing possible options. He had noticed her of course and she only felt worse because he didn't even say anything.

She sighed. This wasn't like her at all.

With another sigh, she put the phone on silent and left it on the sofa. "Know what," she found herself walking up to him, prying fliers out of his hands "I don't feel like junk food; I'll cook something instead."

An eyebrow rose incredibly high.

"I missed mum's curry buns and I know how to make them from scratch."

"I don't think I have the ingredients for that," was all he said.

"You do," she assured him, trying not to shake her head amused. He hadn't even opened his cupboards to see what she had purchased, unbelievable. "I bought them myself two weeks ago."

"Oh." He considered. "Okay, sure." Just as she pulled up her sleeves, he stopped her. "Only if you promise not to poison them."

"Idiot."

But then she looked at herself; she was wearing a new pair of black dress pants and her favourite _white_ frilly shirt. She wouldn't want to get them dirty, even with the apron. And curry was nigh impossible to get off. "Know what? I'll go change first."

With all the ease in the world, she headed to his bedroom, knowing exactly where he kept what by now; effortlessly, her hand found Rai's fur when he jumped off the other couch to follow her and she disappeared behind his door. Just as that happened, he went for his phone. He scrolled past all the pictures, all the tantalising promises, and just wrote what he wanted.

 _For the last time, stop contacting me; think of your husband. I used to be in his shoes and I know exactly how he will feel if or when he finds out. Won't reply again but if you don't stop, next time you hear from me it will be through legal proxy. Have a good life away from me. I'm already doing the same._

He sent it without delay; on purpose, though what purpose that was he didn't know, he didn't put it back where it was, but on the coffee table. As if challenging Tokio to comment on the fact. But, despite noticing how it was moved – it was the very first thing her eyes went to, too, how controlling – she said nothing. She just put her hair up in a ponytail, pulled up his sister's blouse sleeves and put on the apron.

"Alright, let's do this; do you like spicy foods?" He nodded. "Extra spicy or moderate?"

"Moderate."

"Coward," she teased, smile returning. "Will you eat more than two? They come out the size of my fist, give or take."

"Then yes; I'm hungry, too."

"Alright; ten curry buns it is! Be warned, they take about two hours."

" _Two hours_? That's a little long don't you think? We should just buy them."

"If I said I'm making them, I'm making them." Her tone was authoritative. "Now go sit down and sip your beer." He complied. "Don't let me see you snacking on anything, or else."

"We're gonna starve, Rai," he confided in his dog; she scoffed.

"Rai can eat his dry food whenever he wants."

"But if he eats now, he'll beg for food later."

"And? Will you give in, detective?" She asked that with a smirk, eyebrows high, eyes suggestive. "Are you weak against puppy eyes, rubbing themselves on your leg for what they shouldn't have?"

She was saying one thing and meant another; she was having two conversations at the same time. He wasn't an idiot, of course he knew she hadn't let the previous fiasco go, but...instead of telling her to mind her own business, as he should have, he decided to humour her. "Never have been; not gonna start now."

His answer was deemed satisfactory, for she hummed, all airs and turned back to her just-gathered ingredients. "It's you I'm worried about, might end up sneaking him some treat under the table."

"If I was so easily swayed by begging and pleading I never would have been a lawyer. After all, I'm pretty ruthless." Her eyes slid to him and she was surprised to find he had walked next to her. Still, she didn't show it and kept her lofty expression peeled on him. "No whines or apologies work on me, if you're in the wrong...or, in Rai's case, not supposed to eat human food."

Right, this was about Rai, _supposedly_. Saitou leaned against his fridge, watching her mix her ingredients with a slight grin on his face. He had no idea what they just decided or talked about other than it had to do with Yaso and something about character. Her movements were precise and practiced, betraying experience with the certain food; her face was focused but oddly relaxed. And yet, traces of their conversation lingered on her, too though in other ways: the way she held herself; how she was still gravitating away from him; how she was almost smiling, too.

"I see you actually know what you're doing, so, I'll leave you to it," he said in the end, trying to rile her. "I'll be going over some files of our new case; if you need anything, just ask."

"Don't forget the short list of the suspects," she remembered just as he sat on the couch "and the rough draft of our main suspect's financial and actual moves before and after the murder."

"I won't."

"Oh, I'll need that list of police officers, too."

"Yes, I remember."

"Ugh, please include the timeline of all the murders, too."

He rolled his eyes; and just like that, they were back to normal.

But at least it was worth it; the curry buns were delicious. Still, the night went by very fast and they were getting ready for bed what felt like ten minutes after dinner, though it must have been at least twelve.

"You **can** use the guest room, you know," he reminded her for the third time that night.

She was already spreading a sheet, the blanket folded on the floor, pillow sitting on top of it. "But I don't want to. Here is better anyway: Rai keeps me company."

"He'd keep you company there, too," he coolly replied but it took a lot out of him to swallow his first train of thought that would definitely come out very wrong and very forward.

She pouted. "But Rai isn't allowed on beds."

And she was making it none the easier. Swallowing another line again, he simply said "he'd be on the floor next to you."

She snorted. "No thanks; if he isn't keeping me warm with all that fur of his, how do I know he's there anyway?"

He shook his head. "You're just using me to get to my dog."

"I admit to nothing." They shared a moment of appreciative silence. "I'll leave first light tomorrow, probably won't even see me so I'll say this now: You should come pick me up around nine; a little earlier is okay but not later." She considered. "That's about it. See you in less than twenty-four hours Hajime. Sleep well. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, dog thief." She smiled, even as she closed her eyes and lay there.

"No," she cried out as his footsteps went away "turn off the lights before you leave...!"

"Brat." As if on cue, the lights went all off. "I was going to anyway. Can't even do you a favour..."

"Thank you Hajime," she murmured a little guilty but was already starting to drift off.

How quickly did she fall asleep; and how fortunate. If she kept talking another minute longer he might have slipped up and vomited all those words he barely kept at the tip of his tongue; instead, they kept echoing in his mind like a bad case of nagging and he was forced to go to lie with them, doggedly lingering.

 _I_ could keep you company.  
Rai isn't, but I am allowed. On all beds of this house. Couches, too.  
If it's warmth you're looking for, I can definitely help.

Try as he might to just shut off his brain and stop it from screaming all these thoughts to him, all he did was make it worse. _Sleep with her_ , he heard Hijikata's voice urging him, _she already leads you around by the nose_. He squeezed his eyes shut harder but it didn't help. Now he could hear Okita calling him a _lucky bastard_ , too, joining the symphony. _I am under the impression_ she _is under the impression we're dating; we're dating; we're dating._

Damn it all, why? Why now? And why altogether?

Suddenly, he came to a screeching halt. It was the pictures; it was all because of those damn pictures Yaso sent, that meddling, bothersome woman. She tried to entice him, make him long for the "good old days" but all she did was remind him, hey, he is a man, too; he can be and most definitely is attracted to this young, sexy woman sleeping on his couch on the regular.

And look how _Tokio_ acted because of those pictures, almost like she was...jealous. And that, in his sleep-deprived, desire-renewed addled mind was very alluring.

What was it with him and possessiveness? Why did it always turn him on, it wasn't healthy.

Alright, this, whatever it was, wasn't helping. Sending his cover flying, he stalked to the door and—pulled it open, as silently as possible. He didn't want to wake her. But he _needed_ to throw some water on his face or take a cold shower, whatever was more effective. Carefully, he exited his bedroom and headed for the bathroom.

Light caught his eye. It was dim but there. He turned his head, to see it emanated from the couch. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he realised it was a cell phone that caused it; if it was on a couch, that meant Tokio had it. He watched for a moment as she scrolled down and then read something; then, careful not to jostle the dog – and when she did, she motioned for him to be quiet – she extended her hand to the coffee table and deposited **his** cell phone back.

"Your owner is a good man," she whispered to the dog; she chuckled after a long moment "but if he'd caught me, I'd be a dead woman."

He stared.

How underhanded of her, to pretend she was so exhausted, she was almost asleep, only to be left alone and once she made sure the coast was clear, look through his messages and see what he sent her. And yet, he was nearly as angry as he would normally be and for the second time in two minutes, he wondered the same thing: what was it with him and possessiveness?

At least that made up his mind. Cold shower it was.

Next morning, when he stumbled into his kitchen, a little sleepless and a little tired, he didn't see her on the couch, just like she predicted. The blanket and sheet were neatly folded, second resting on top of the fluffed up pillow. So were his sister's clothes. Next thing he noticed was it was very cold in his living room because the window was open. She must have left it like that to let air in.

Shaking his head, he headed to his coffee maker, to find a note stuck to it. He read it.

 _Brewed some coffee for you, it's in the black thermos; had to use your bath, but the floor is dry. See you tonight, detective, no later than nine. Don't forget or we'll be late. Have a nice day!_

Despite the confusion and tension and all around chaos of his mind, he still found it in him to smile. He closed his window, put away the things on the couch and got ready for the last workday of the year, already bracing himself for tonight; he had no idea what would happen but whatever it was, he was sure it would be eventful.

.

"I'm coming!"

The clock on her wall read 8:37 pm. Per usual, Saitou was on time. "I'm coming!"

The first one he heard coming from deeper within the house than the first; that was a good sign, she was indeed coming. The he heard small fast footfalls approaching and immediately knew two things from the sound she was making: she was not wearing shoes yet, but definitely a long dress because she couldn't take big steps. Two seconds later, he heard the familiar click and the door opened.

"Good afternoon; come in, come in; I'm almost ready."

He barely got to see her; the moment she opened the door she disappeared again. He only caught a glimpse of blue fabric and all he knew was that he was right about the long dress. In an effort to urge her to be quicker he didn't even take off his shoes and simply stood at her doorway, although he did close the door.

"I just need to unearth my clutch; I can't remember where I put it but I'm pretty confident it's in here."

He looked around him; he could see she had everything laid out, for easier use: her plain white stilettos next to the chair, on which a very fine, definitely expensive white bolero jacket was hang. It was one of those "special occasion" ones because it had no zipper or button and the lapel almost sparkled. She really did go all out, huh.

"Found it!" she announced proud and three seconds later, she emerged from the room.

He was right to dread the moment he lay eyes on her; she was wearing a dress with an almost identical shade of blue to his suit; it was form-fitting all the way to her knees and then flared out, dragging behind her on the floor. If his memory served this was called a mermaid dress, or some other mythical creature, Yaso used to love these types of dresses.

Well, whatever it was, it made her look stunning.

He could tell she was curvaceous before, too but damn, this dress left no room for doubt; her figure was only accentuated by the weaving of the dress, the way the lines were made. In the meantime, her bust seemed to want to burst out of the dress and maybe that was why she chose such a thick strap for the shoulders, to be able to support all of that without breaking.

"Oooh, Hajime you look sharp!"

Finally, she had time to take a proper look at him and admire her good taste, as well as how well Saitou wore these clothes. The way he had left the coat open on purpose, scarf simply hanging around his neck, but not tying, was very fitting: tie, vest and shirt were there for all to see at first glance. He even took the time to sleek back his bangs.

She loved it!

But then, smiling, she twirled once or twice and oh god, the back was very low and the straps almost reached her middle and she had really nice shoulders, shit.

"What do you think? Isn't this dress great?"

He decided not to share exactly what he thought of her in that dress because he didn't trust himself; he just gave an appreciative nod and a smirk. "But I didn't know you insisted on the blue so we'd match." She pursed her perfectly red-painted lips as she crossed her hands and suddenly he couldn't focus because all he could see was the curvature of her breasts, even if he did his best not to look. "You look great; all your hard work was worth it. Let's go now."

Shaking her head, she used him for balance as she struggled to get into her shoes; he helped her into her jacket and waited till she transferred her phone, keys and some money from her purse to her tiny white handbag that was otherwise plain, save for the metallic finish on the sides and where it buttoned closed.

"It's not white, it's off white, a shade darker," she corrected when he made fun of the clutch, turning her nose up at him. "Same as the shoes and the jacket."

Only then did he realise, her hair did not move with her; that was because they were secured in an intricate do at the bottom of her head that appeared far more loose and casual than it really was. Some braids went in there and around it, too. That prompted him to notice the fact she was wearing earrings and a necklace. They were the same design, resembling teardrops, so he figured it was a set. Huh. How didn't he notice the necklace earlier? He spent, what, half the time he's been with her staring at her bust? All of these reflected, too, how did he miss it?

Then he realised. "Is this real diamond?"

She nodded; " **and** sapphire. I obviously picked them out after the dress." A giggle. "Dad bought them for me, they were too expensive."

"What a spoiled brat." She wore that with pride and winked at him. "You are a menace. I pity your father."

She laughed. "Pity my poor mother; it was my father who spoiled me to begin with."

The elevator finally reached its destination and they were ready to go. He had to help her down and up any stairs though, because the gown, even with the really high heels of her stiletto, still licked the floor.

"Is this New Year's party really so extravagant?" he had to ask at some point, while driving.

"I'll only say this: every year, the mayor is invited; every year, he drops by for at least half an hour."

He had the address in the gps of his car so it led them there and he drove without much thought, but he only comprehended where they had arrived only once he saw it: the huge fountain, the lights illuminating the water, the statue, the grand staircases...

"This is the Kyoto National Museum," he deadpanned "it's seldom used for events." She nodded, fully aware of what he was getting at; his eyes darted to her. "Just what did you get me into?"

She smirked, challenge on her perfectly painted lips. "Hopefully, your future." He tried to roll his eyes at her dramatics but he only managed a knowing look; the prospect of a future, any future with her, felt a little too desirable since last night. "Let us go detective."

He exited the car first and then promptly opened the door for her as well as helped her out. Then a man came to take his keys, which he gave, and they moved to the entrance. Contrary to his original belief, there were no cameras or photographers to snap their picture as they ascended the outdoor marble staircase.

Once they entered the museum, even the hall before the ballroom was decorated to match the theme. Where tickets where usually sold, now a woman stood, accepting coats, furs and jackets from the guests, handing them back a little chip with a number; they had effectively turned it into the wardrobe.

"You clean up very well, detective," an impressed voice was heard just as they had received their own tokens.

Both turned to the sound and none other than "ah, if it isn't the pig," greeted them. He looked a lot better than usual, true, but a piece of shit with a silk ribbon, is still a piece of shit.

"Tokio darling, you look delicious."

"Thankfully, I cannot say the same for you," she shot back and tried to leave, but his annoying chuckles stopped her.

"Did you know? We have a mistletoe contest inside; and it's mandatory to participate." He chuckled again. "I guess I'll keep a very close eye on your move—"

Tokio opened her mouth to snap something back, but Saitou was quicker. Using his height to its best advantage, eyes dangerous, he towered over the man and warned in a very low, very lethal voice, "if you come closer than a three-meter radius to either one of us, I'll throw you out the damn window." He leaned closer. "Whether you land on the porch or in the fountain, I don't care."

There was a pause, just so he could appreciate the threat. "Now lose yourself in the crowd before I do it for you."

When he almost ran away from them, Tokio had to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"I was about to say how there were definitely provisions made for individuals who have documented animosity between them not to be held to the same standards as the rest, who may be friends, strangers or even couples, but that works, too."

With unrivaled satisfaction, she linked their arms and walked into the main hall.

"It really is breath taking, no matter how many times you see it," she commented, taking all of it in.

Tables set all around the room, creating a great opening in the middle of the room for those willing to dance; a band played all type of songs, put on a stage at the far back. Speakers littered the grand room, disguised with seasonal decorations. Crystals were hanging from the chandelier, and huge balls of something from the ceiling, while it was also lined with what appeared to be fake snow, giving the illusion of being outside. Impressive glass vases and ash trays were here and there, while servers with the finest champagnes and wines, put in the best possible glasses, came and went.

"Food will be presented after everyone is accounted for," a server informed a man just then and Tokio chuckled..

"That is code for all the important players haven't arrived yet," she informed her date. "Hmmm, even businessmen were invited this year; look at that man with the ridiculous eggplant jacket?" He smothered a snort at that. "He's a spokesperson for Sony. That one with the much younger woman on his arm? He's the CEO of a Kyoto-exclusive clothing line—and he makes a killing. Ooh, that man is a judge. That one is a broker...a lot of people this year," she mused out loud.

"And that man who's looking at me like he wants to see my head mounted on a spike...?"

Her head snapped to the direction he nodded at and...her eyes grew wide. Then slid to him and then back to the man he was talking about repeatedly. She blanched.

"That's dad." She swallowed. "But if dad's here that means so is mum; where is mum...?" Her shoulders squared; she stood up straight. "Why can't I see mum?"

"I saw your father in pictures—he looked nothing like this man."

"You never saw him in a tux; plus, dad has a crazy look about him when he gets upset. He's currently upset, though why I don't know. Now, let's mingle and don't linger at one place; the mistletoe aren't hang—it's a person going around, giving it to you; he asks first and you have to accept something he's giving you; then the person he or she gives it to has to kiss the person closest to them." She gave him a look. "So don't stray too far."

"Wait, why do I have to do that? I don't want to kiss anyone—especially a stranger."

"Awww, are you scared you don't remember how to kiss someone properly? After all, it's been a long time since your divorce." She pat his back. "Don't fret, it's like _riding a bike_ , you can't forget." Another giggle. "Unless you were never any good at it on the first place, in which case, just do your best."

"Take care of what you say; you can't outrun me in this dress." She hid a laugh in her hand. "And call me crazy, but the idea of kissing a stranger just because of a plant, isn't all that appealing to me."

"Meh, it's just a peck. That's the proper etiquette for strangers, at least. Oh, and you can't linger. Kiss them and that's that." To his curiosity at her surprisingly in-depth knowledge of the matter, she simply shrugged. "Americans are big on this tradition and I studied law in the US of A; had to give or receive plenty of those. But really, it's no big deal. Just get it over with quickly, like a band-aid."

"I still don't like it."

"It's tradition, Hajime; and you can't just completely ignore and turn your nose up at your hosts. You have to make them like you, remember? Now move because I think dad is about to come here, move, move!"

"Why don't you want him coming over?"

"Because if he does, so will mum and then it's over." An actual sigh later, she confided in him that "she's really pushy, I don't want her around right now."

"Compared to you, no one's is pushy."

"Hajime!"

"Fine, let's move. But we'll be incredibly easy to spot, I'm the tallest guy in the room."

"If we keep mobile for long enough, it will be fine. Just—..." She stopped talking then and discreetly glanced over her shoulder; she'd thought she saw something in a reflection and when she looked again, yes, she was ascertained. "Hajime, don't look, but your ex-wife just walked in."

Shit. "Yaso is here?"

"Just arrived; oh, she's wearing the fancy dress she sent you yesterday. I wonder if she's wearing the red or the white underwear." She considered for a moment. "I'll go ask her!"

He grabbed her hand tighter. "You'll do no such thing; the older guy with her is her husband and remember what you promised?"

"I don't see any guy with her right now, but fine; we'll stay away from her. Now let's go find my bosses!"

The night turned out to be an actual race, neither would have guessed. They had to navigate the room with three things in mind: stay out of her parent's eyesight, remain a very good distance away from Yaso and avoid the mistletoe person at any cost, while still keeping up a civil and fun conversation with her bosses.

It was no easy feat, because, well, it was large, but it was still one room. The doors to the balcony were open, so one could easily escape there, but most people steered clear for one good reason: it was freezing cold outside.

"Don't stand there for too long, you'll catch a cold," Saitou advised, seeing she was wearing nothing but the dress; her shoulders were exposed, her bust, her back—she'd definitely get ill if she lingered.

"It's fine; people don't come around here too much and I'm tired of running away in these heels."

"You did get a lot of admirers, too," he commented lightheartedly, but deep down, it had annoyed him. She wasn't being flirtatious even, _they_ came up to her. Still pissed him the hell off. Well, it made sense; she looked like _this_. But to think so many people would flock, it was exhausting swatting them all away.

"Ah yes; the league of extraordinary gentlemen. How vapid of them. They all complimented my necklace, too." She shook her head. "But not one of them said anything about the earrings, even if they are the exact same thing."

"Tokio, no one notices them; they hang from your ears, who cares? The necklace on the other hand is positioned in a far more strategic place." He purposefully glanced there. "And it hangs _very_ low. In fact, the necklace serves two purposes: gives an excuse to any wandering eyes as well as an excuse for eyed to wander."

Her face transitioned from shock, to offense, to disbelief and finally to amusement all in three seconds. She smacked his shoulder. "The sweetheart cut is supposed to be a tasteful option!"

"Whatever it is, it's cute and I never said otherwise; but "nice necklace" sounds far better than "nice rack"."

"Hajime!"

"Sir, you are being horrible to the lady, how reproachable."

A man's voice said that, somewhere on their left; if it wasn't so humorous and obliviously teasing, Tokio would have told him to mind his own business, but his suppressed smile held her back. Instead, she sighed theatrically. "Indeed sir, he is; quite crass as well."

He nodded sagely, causing Hajime to roll his eyes. "Would you like me to give you some advice on how to make it up to her?"

Hajime shook his head. "Please do!" she egged the man on instead and the stranger, even to her, came closer.

"I think you need to kiss her and make up."

Both people looked at him at a loss for words; for one big, silent moment, Hajime felt personally attacked. But then, the man came and did something very weird; took Saitou's hand and...imprinted something on it. With an office seal. Upon closer inspection from both people – who would have reacted much differently if this entire conversation hadn't turned out so bizarre – they saw it left the design of a mistletoe on his hand.

The couple rolled their eyes at the same time but Tokio actually laughed. "You are the mistletoe guy! Oooh and you asked to give us something—advice. And I accepted." He nodded, glowing. "Haha, I never would have guessed it would be something like that. How smart. And to think I've been refusing photographs and drinks from everyone because of it."

"Well, now that you know," the stranger continued "you have to kiss."

"Can this—?"

Suddenly, all the lights went out; an abrupt silence spread in the entire hall and just before everyone started wondering what the hell happened, one of the walls, the one who was bare, was hit with light and a number formed: 12; then it changed to 11; then—

Everyone realised it was the countdown to the New Year and the entire room started counting down with it, in loud, booming voices "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

A loud sound deafened everyone; if Saitou had his gun with him, he would have certainly drawn it; but he still went for it. What he thought was a gunshot though, turned out to be something quite different: a downpour of fake snow that was released down on them from the huge white balls that hang from the ceiling!

Laughter, oooohs and aaahs were heard all over and finally, the lights turned back on; immediately waiters came out of nowhere, replacing the drinks that were by now full of the fake snow with clean champagne.

"Let's all raise our glass and wish ourselves and everyone we hold dear, happy new year."

That was her boss who said that, spotlight suddenly on him. They all complied and made the toast; the theatrics were over at the same time and proper light filled the room again. Some cheered, some clapped; others downed their drink in one go.

Tokio touched her glass to Saitou's, a genuine smile on her face. "Happy New Year Hajime."

He returned the gesture. "Happy New Year, Tokio."

"Happy New Year to you folks; now kiss! Don't think I forgot about it."

"Oh come on, spare us," Tokio complained.

But he simply shook his head with a vengeance. "I am the great mistletoe and you must abide by my rules." His eyes gleamed. "Besides, you'll be the first kiss of the year; quite the honour. Now," he made a big show of imprinting the mistletoe on Tokio's hand too, just so more eyes could catch it "kiss! Kiss, kiss, kiss."

He started chanting it, loud and clear; it took no time to gain traction and half the room around them did the same.

"Oh well, it's just a kiss right?" Tokio whispered, shrugging. "And Yaso is watching; too late to disprove her now."

"That's not the point."

"Then are you really worried about being terrible? It's okay, I won't judge." His "shut up" was barely heard. "Ah! Don't tell me you're _shy_ —!"

Alright, that was it; he had an ego damn it, and it was being bruised a little too much; ignoring his better judgment, egged on by the chorus all around them, he grabbed her by the waist and did the one thing he didn't want to but thought of doing for the entire last week: he crushed his lips onto hers with abandon.

The very same moment, a jolt of electricity ran through her body; she slowly melted into the kiss, following his motions and before it even registered, her hands came to rest on his chest, giving back as much as she took. Her fingers tingled, itching for more contact; her toes curled with satisfaction and there were butterflies in her stomach.

She came to the unexpected realisation she didn't want to stop kissing him.

But she had to. The kiss came to its natural end, before it deepened thus became inappropriate, and they parted, almost in slow motion. Her chest heaved; she felt like she ran a mile. There were cheers and claps all around them, signaling a happy crowd, but all she could hear, echoing, was the beat of her own heart, wild and erratic. Her eyes had focused on his lips and she couldn't help but feel hers, too, swollen and throbbing.

She could not believe it. She enjoyed kissing him so much, she was reluctant to stop.

And all because some people in a room wanted them to kiss. They would leave though, and most, she'd never see again; but Hajime would stay. So would her confusion and newfound feelings for him. Shit. Shit, shit, shit; this was bad. _Stop looking at his lips_ , she berated herself, _could you be any more shameless!_? Next step was actually asking him to kiss her again, which didn't sound all that bad right about now.

Her face was flush and she felt a sensory overload. She distantly wondered, did this have any effect on him, too?

"I thought you said I shouldn't linger," he teased in a whisper, after another moment and now her face was redder than ever. Bastard had to comment on that didn't he? Nothing escaped him!

At least that gave her a clear answer to what he could be feeling—not all that affected, after all; almost stubborn, she made up her mind to appear as unaffected as possible.

"Well, Yaso was watching," she excused herself, a smirk forming "should make it look believable. Besides, you are not a stranger."

"Ah," was all he said.

"Congratulations," the man who had been the one to instigate this entire fiasco exclaimed "you are officially in the running for best kiss." He stamped both their hands with another seal, and they saw it read in bold, blue letters: seal of approval. "You have three more couples to contend with and one more will be chosen till one o'clock. Five finalists; be sure to stick around till then."

Well that helped take any tension out of the moment; they both shook their heads and...wait, they were too close. He was still holding her. With a fluid but slow motion, one hand left her waist, but the other stayed. He noticed; she noticed; he noticed she noticed and when she turned to ask what that was all about, feeling infinitely more like herself than ten seconds ago, he looked to the right.

"Yaso is coming over."

Oh; she sort of deflated mentally at that. And here she thought she had made an impression. But no, it was all business with this man. On the other hand, Saitou couldn't thank his lucky stars enough for the coincidence because, quite frankly, he just wanted to hold on to her a little longer. He only noticed Yaso after Tokio gave him the look.

"Great; we ran into the mistletoe man, now Yaso's coming over. What's next? Mum strutting here—ah! Mum. My mum; she might have seen me, oh no..."

"What's up with your relationship with your mum, really?"

"You'll only understand after you meet with her."

Yaso finally reached them, not three seconds later; she wasn't in the company of her husband though, no, she was with two more women. "Hajime," she greeted "you look very nice. And you," she turned to Tokio, almost surprised "I hardly recognised you."

Tokio τurned to the other women as if she didn't exist or just talk to her, but her hands deliberately slithered around Saitou's chest and neck. "Ladies, hello, how are you? And who may you be?"

"Hi," they both saluted and introduced themselves as "Haruka" and "Chihiro."

"Now that you know each other, can you spare Hajime for a second? I need to speak with him."

An eyebrow raised on the man's face. "Is it life or death?" Her face fell. "I'm not interested. Bye Yaso."

"It won't be too long."

"No means no," Tokio stated.

"I'm sure," she insisted, casting a keen look on their hands but mostly his, on her waist "you can keep your hands off of each other for three minutes, yes?" She had grown testy; her friends noticed and exchanged looks. "I need him just that long."

"I'm not going to ask you how long I'm going to keep my hands on someone or not," she snubbed just to spite her "and if you don't mind, we have far more important things to do than talk to you."

His ex-wife turned her nose up at them. "Yes, I noticed, just a second ago; seems your relationship is built on emotion, mutual respect and deep trust."

Her sarcasm was almost palpable; Tokio's lips curled into a devious grin then just as she gave her a look over her glasses, knowing just what to say to drive her crazy; to take her revenge; to discourage her from ever contacting Saitou again; to give her a taste of her own medicine.

To make her green out of jealousy.

"Don't hate on something simply because you can't have it, dear."

Without further delay, she let her hand fall around his arm. "Goodbye ladies, it was nice meeting you; let's go, Hajime," she said and dragged him away. "By the way," she couldn't help herself as they were leaving, "neither the dress nor the underwear were impressive. Though I do hope you opted for the red ones. Goodbye."

Yaso changed ten colours; her veins popped out of her skin from the suppressed emotions. Her eyes remained trained on them and, just as they were making their exit, Tokio passed right in front of her. Yaso saw her chance and took it; she grabbed Tokio's elaborate hairdo and _pulled_!

For one horrible, terrible moment, after Tokio had screamed out in pain and fell a little back and Yaso's two friends dropped their mouths open in scandal, everything froze; next, Saitou dived into action: with no hesitation, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from the scene, his ex-wife's finger still entangled in the hair, just in time. One second later and Tokio's balled hand would have found Yaso square on the face.

Who, naturally, hadn't expected such a reaction because the look of pure fear on her face was unrivaled.

"How _dare_ you touch my hair, you uncultured—?"

"I am a law enforcement agent," he spelled out for the both of them, glaring at Yaso but resisting Tokio's attempts to break free "what kind of behaviour is this?"

"Did you hear what she just said!?" Yaso almost cried the words, but he dismissively shook his head.

"That gives you no right to attack her."

"Se pulled on my hair!" Tokio was quick to accuse, too, pointing at her viciously, because she couldn't actually reach her. "My hair, Hajime!"

"And that's deplorable but you can't lunge at her; you do and you know what that means, I'm not the expert here. Calm down, come on; we're going."

He didn't even put her down or let go of her, he just dragged her away as she still struggled to be freed; they were a good distance away when he finally decided it was safe and he let go, sighing. She glared.

"Am I supposed to just let her get away with it?"

"Tokio, you're a lawyer; hit her with a lawsuit, not a fist. Think of your father—think of your poor mother. She raised you better than that, or at least, tried to." She huffed, crossing her hands and sending Yaso death glares. He chuckled and that made her redirect her glares. "Tokio, she's not worth the time **or** effort, trust me."

She deflated. "I know, but..." she clicked her tongue. "She ruined my hair."

He knew that hid so much more behind it, but decided not to push her; he smiled. "Then, if we win, I'll make sure no one snaps a picture."

Alright, that was funny; she chuckled.

"And if that tall woman with impressive physique for her age stomping towards us is your mother," by her reaction and how fast her head whipped around to see what he mentioned he knew he was right "then we hit jackpot; three for three."

"Oh no," she nearly cried and his her face in her hands "let's go before—"

"Takagi Tokio stay put, I swear to god!"

"—she comes. Shit."

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this."

"Shut up," she snapped in a small voice.

"Do you want me to lie?"

"At least show a little support, asshole."

"Tokio," her mother's stern voice stopped all conversation and caused both people to look at her "here you are. Hi." But her eyes immediately slid to the one of interest, aka, Saitou. "Who is your friend?"

Her mother was, or actually, Tokio was a spitting image of her mother. They were almost identical, save some decades; eyes, colours, hair, same. Only body type changed, as well as height, but otherwise, he felt like looking at her in thirty years from now. Amazing.

"Mother, this is Hajime, you know his name; I told you about him."

"The detective?" her mother was quick to ask, surprise and interest only peaking. "I had no idea you two were dating; you never mentioned _that_ during Christmas. Just that you're working together."

"We aren't. Mum, this isn't what it looks like."

"Are you telling me I didn't just see his ex-wife pulling on your hair and you almost attacking her?"

"Mum, why do you know that? How?"

"Oh?" Her mother was torn between sharing this piece of information with her daughter and being a smartass. She decided to do both. "Don't tell me you don't know who his ex-wife is married to?" She shook her head no, violently; her mother looked at Saitou for an explanation who simply shrugged.

"She never asked for my ex-wife's new husband's name."

"Is anyone going to tell me his name and identity or am I going to start guessing?"

"She's Yami-san's new wife."

Tokio took a sharp breath. "No...!"

"Oh yes."

Tokio started laughing, waving her hand in front of her face. "Oh man, this explains so much about her behaviour. I'll tell you later," she assured Saitou and then turned to her mother. "So?"

Her mother accosted her, not to be heard too much but took hold of her daughter's hand from the side Saitou stood on purpose. "I didn't know she was your boyfriend's ex-wife, too, your father and I found out today. You see, while her, Kojuuro and Yami-san and I were talking, she saw your detective and said something about him stalking her and how did he even know she'd be here and how tasteless it was to bring his new girlfriend to parade her around."

Meanwhile, Tokio was openly gawking at Yaso's audacity to claim he was stalking her; Saitou was about to burst.

"So, Yami-san tells her to ignore him, but she won't stop going on about it; your father and I exchange looks, you know how we told you we think Yami-san's new wife is a leech," they both nodded like it was only natural "and try to get her to change the subject. But no luck. So, in an effort to spare your father, I ask her, well, where is this ex of yours? She points to him; can't miss him, can I?" She smiled up at Saitou. "You are a tall man." He nodded for her to continue. "Anyway, I tell her, he can't be stalking you. One can only attend this party if they have an invitation. She turns her nose up at me and snaps, well, maybe his new girlfriend got him one. So I ask, who's the girlfriend? The one next to him, she says. And whom do I see next to him?"

Mum stared; hard. Tokio smiled guiltily. "You." She smiled wider. "And I just stand there, staring blankly at you from afar, because I _had no idea you were dating someone_!"

Just then, Tokio realised something. "Mum, d'you tell her I'm your daughter?"

"Pfff, certainly not; I wanted to assess this myself first." She crossed her hands then, glaring. "Tokio, why didn't you say anything?"

"I am not dating Hajime."

"Then why the hell does his ex-wife think that? Why were you two kissing three minutes ago?"

"Madam, allow me to explain—"

But her mother never let him finish; she scoffed and shook her head disappointed. "Did she talk you into this, too? I don't care what she says, if you're sleeping together, you _are_ together. Don't let her fool you."

"Mum!" Tokio almost shook her from sheer indignation. "What are you saying to him? Are you serious? This isn't, Hajime, say something! We're not-..."

Oh hell no. "What are _you_ doing here?" Yaso was seen approaching the scene with none other than Tokio's father on her left, holding onto him for dear life.

"I came to get my friend, Tooka-san, in the company of her husband."

Oh yes; Tokio was going to love this. Her father had forced Yaso to let go now, and offered his hand to his wife.

"To make sure you don't attack me again?"

Yaso said nothing; simply held her head higher but almost hid behind the man. "This is my lawyer, Takagi Kojuuro-san," she gestured to him, as if no one knew who he was "and he's here to advise me on what to do and not to do."

"Actually I am your husband's lawyer," he corrected "and I can't advise you on much other than don't do it again, for I specialise in corporate law. But I didn't get to properly introduce myself: hello," he turned to Saitou, which Yaso found very suspicious "I am Takagi Kojuuro; and you, young man?"

"I am Saitou Hajime, sir, pleased to make your acquaintance." He gave a small, polite bow.

"So _you_ are Yaso-san's ex-husband." He nodded. "And her boyfriend."

Saitou stood a little straighter when Kojuuro said that, eyes sharp and all-seeing. This was getting way out of hand; he made the mistake to give in and kiss Tokio, not just because of his ex-wife, but because he goddamn wanted to and both her parents bore witness to it, or at least heard about it. And now he had to face these people and try to explain. How? It was a lost cause. He had to come clean about this.

"Sir—"

But "sir" turned to Tokio without letting him finish – what was it with this family and always cutting him off – and shook his head. "Why didn't you ever tell us about him?"

Pardon?

Yaso had sensed that something was a little off, but didn't know what; and now, as he addressed her "replacement" so informally, she blinked. Wait, what was going on? Did they know each other?

"You should be ashamed of yourself, leaving things such as these to chance. You should have told us."

"I told her the same, too honey," Tooka agreed, nodding.

"I'm sorry," Yaso finally interjected with enough force to be noticed "but what's your name?"

Tokio smirked. "Although you never asked for it in a way that would compel me to give it to you, fine, I'll introduce myself: my name is Tokio; Takagi Tokio."

There it was: this is what Tokio was looking forward to! All colour drained from Yaso's face and her mouth opened slightly.

"She's our youngest," her father shared, pride in his offspring obvious "and the only one who followed in her father's footsteps and chose the law." The smirk on Tokio's face grew bigger, as if feeding on Yaso's increasing panic. "And apparently, the most secretive; honey, Yaso has informed us you've been in a relationship with Hajime at least since November."

Tokio tried to contradict him but she didn't feel like it, not in front of _her_ ; she simply sighed and shook her head.

"Why didn't you bring him over for our Christmas dinner?"

"Was that why you were late?" her mother was quick to assume and although yes, they were, they weren't like that. "You were together?"

"Yes and no; know what, we'll talk about this tomorrow, alright? Now escort this woman away from me before I decide to sue her...or not show up."

"Fine," her father gave in immediately, "but you'll tell us everything."

"Not just that! We insist you bring your date—you simply must come, Hajime," her mother all but rubbed her hands together "you'll get to taste my new recipe for udon!"

"What a wonderful idea honey, yes; please come, Hajime."

"I'll have to decline, I'm afraid; my parents live in Tokyo and New Year's is the one day I am sure to see them."

"I wouldn't want to keep you away from your family, I understand; but I still want you to come whenever you're able."

"That's easy," her father interjected "we'll have him promise to attend our next family dinner, no matter what; how about it"

Clearly outvoted, already chased into a corner, he did all he could; which was to say, he nodded wordlessly while Tokio shook her head at their antics.

"Perfect," Tooka-san commented, a very satisfied expression on her face. "Oh, sweetie, we meant to tell you; you look so pretty today! Both of you, in fact, you look very nice."

Her mother blew her a kiss and they all retreated towards Yaso's husband, who couldn't care less about the entire ordeal.

"What the hell just happened?"

That's when she finally let go; she heaved a very deep sigh and looked at him pleadingly. "This is why I didn't want mum coming over! She says whatever she wants, does her thing and leaves you wondering what the hell you just agreed to."

"So this is where you take it from."

Of all the things he could have said, he chose that one; she snorted a laugh and put her hand on her forehead, feeling helpless. "I give up. I, I am done. I am ready to go home now..."

"I sort of need to process this, too so let's."

For the very first time, their timing was right; exchanging only nods from that point onward, they managed to leave the room, escape to the hall, grab their stuff and lead themselves to his car.

"What a day," he mused, hands on the gear shift.

He had just pulled up at her apartment complex, still mulling over what she'd shared with him about Yaso's new husband. So, this was why Yaso was reaching out to him; Yami-san was getting bored of her.

"In fact, he changes wives almost every two years. Divorces the one, finds the next. But he's a gentleman, always helps them get back on their feet. Yaso is lucky number six."

"Only seven? How old is he?"

"Ah, right, you don't know; Yami-san married a wonderful woman he was deeply in love with when he was barely nineteen; till death do us part and all that...and it did; eleven years ago, his wife died of cancer."

"Ouch."

"But he loved her to bits; to this day, I believe he's still in love with her. Which makes sense he goes through wives so easily. Once he told my father he already had his happily-ever-after, now he's only looking for someone to keep him company. Several someones, apparently."

That was some news.

Then she sighed once more and gave him a very honest, vulnerable look. "I'm sorry about my parents;" she considered "and the thing with your ex-wife;" she considered some more "and the mistletoe incident. I wasn't trying to cause a scene."

"I know," he assured her.

"It's my fault for insisting you come with me to this stupid party; I didn't want to cause any problems, I swear."

He tried not to imitate her and sigh, too. All he could think about ever since the mistletoe incident, as she dubbed it, was her lips, how the taste of alcohol was sweeter when it came from them and how soft they were. Pliable. Even now, all he did was watch them move up and down, that vibrant red ever-present, despite drinking so much; and eating. And kissing him...

He really wanted to rub his face raw right now; all he wanted was to kiss her again. Dismiss her worries completely with a real kiss. If that didn't dispel all issues, he didn't know what would: it would show her he couldn't care less about Yaso; he didn't mind her parents; and he certainly did not mind her decision to follow the instructions of the party.

But he couldn't. That would probably create a thousand more issues than it solved.

"Tokio, it's late," was what he said instead, hand running through his hair "we're tired and we've both had a lot to drink; let's save this for another day." She gave in, nodding once. "Now, are you ready?"

"Quite."

"Need my help with the stairs?"

"Ah, no; just get the door, I'll be fine."

Shrugging, he complied with her wishes and left his seat; he opened the door for her, offering his hand to help her out. "Thank you, Hajime; and goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Just as she was about to walk up the stairs, she turned back to him. "When will we be meeting again?"

"Whenever you want, after Thursday." He smirked. "I wasn't lying to your mother you know; tomorrow and the day after, I'll be in Tokyo, with my family."

"Oh, the entire family?"

"Brother manages the restaurants; sister is a chef in one of them. Where will they go?" She chuckled, good-naturedly. "Haven't seen them for a long time. It'll be nice."

"I'll call you after then; have a nice and safe trip."

"Thanks; see you."

She waved at him one final time, and he got into his car. He waited until she was safely inside the building before he drove away, a faint smile on his face. Despite everything, this wasn't such a bad night. No matter what, only one thing was for sure: he was bound to put his thoughts in order when he went home. His brother always had a way with these things.

The only thing he worried about was his mother and whether his landlady's gossiping had reached her, or he'd have a hard time even mentioning Tokio to his brother, because mom's ears would be peeled on them.

Oh well; the die has been cast. He'd face the music soon enough.

.

.

"Tokio."

"Hajime."

"You look terrible."

"I know; can I come in?"

It was the fourth of January, ten o clock in the evening. Saitou had just come out of the shower, Rai hot on his trail, rubbing himself on his feet. The moment knocking was heard, they both redirected themselves from the couch to the front door. And when it revealed none other than Tokio, he shook his head amused, smirk easy on the lips.

She though, he wasn't lying, did look bad. He tried to joke, but it came out as fact: her face was too red, her hair a mess...what happened?

He needed answers. He stepped to the side and let her in, Rai now rubbing himself on her instead, feeling her bad mood, in an effort to cheer her up. But her smile was fleeting and although she did pet him, she didn't linger. First sign of things going wrong.

"Can I have that beer now?"

He nodded, already walking to the fridge. He grabbed two and brought them to the table. Only after they took first sip, after he sat down, did he ask her "what's wrong?"

"I have good news and bad news. Good news is, I'll have plenty of free time to look over our case, time I didn't have before."

She took a deep breath, leaning back on the couch, eyes closing. Rai, unsettled, came to lick her better, but she barely pet his head. Saitou became suspicious.

"The bad news is, I'm out of a job."

He stared; a blink later he shook his head. "Are you serious?" Her morose shaking of her head was all the agreement he needed.

Now Saitou was unsettled, too and he looked all around him first, then back at her, to make sure this was real. "What happened? Why?"

She sniffed, trying to fight back tears. "They are assholes that's what happened. They heard Yaso's story while at the party and they believed it, confronted me about it yesterday."

The pit of his stomach disappeared and he almost dropped his chin.

"Said if word got out of our relationship, it could damage my reputation. Not to mention, they fear what the extent of my involvement would be with your future cases, as well as the one we're trying to solve. For some reason, they followed up on everything I filed and said I shouldn't have filed the injunction." She snorted. "That is not okay. They even went as far as to say you're only using me for your cases."

Shaking her head, redder than ever, she took another sip from the glass bottle. Her speech was already slowed, but the beer helped none.

"Then, when I explained to them I only helped because your go-to lawyer must suck and how this was not a big deal, they claimed my time was their time and their time was expensive; I explained I did it in my free time and how I also work for them during my free time and they just..." she shrugged "stopped listening. And flat out ordered me to stop our project. When I refused, once again, they threatened to bury me under a mountain of paperwork and corporate law."

She swore, sagging.

"I demanded they reconsidered; they said it was final. I asked them if this was how it was always going to be with them and they said yes."

She finally sat properly and looked at him after a long time. "So I quit."

That was a wild ride from start to finish; once her tale was finished, he exhaled, perplexed. "What are you going to do now? Rent? Bills? Do you have enough saved?"

But her tired but genuine chuckle, made him look back at her with hope.

"I own the apartment; dad bought it for me once I returned from the states. I only pay the taxes on it. And I have plenty of money saved; plus, my end-year bonus will be large. I completed the work that was required for it and then some and there are no clauses to suspend or cancel it altogether because I quit." She shook her head. "My problem is not financial, but ethical. Why would they not want us working together, even if they thought we were dating? That's ridiculous. Plenty of the people in the firm are sleeping together, but they couldn't care less."

She sighed and now Rai was making a full frontal assault just to stop her frowning. She appreciated the effort but almost didn't respond to him.

"So it's basically my fault."

"No, stupid; did nothing of what I just said stuck?"

It felt like it though. "Fine, let me rephrase that; I'm basically the excuse."

" _That_ , yes."

He snorted. "You should have never convinced them to invite me to that party.

"But they wanted me to stop the before this, remember? They have some sort of problem with me or the police and I don't know what that is. Maybe they thought I'd be easier to handle but I turned out different and now they are trying to show me who's boss; maybe they don't like the police. Whatever it is, they are assholes."

She gesticulated, like she was used to, but this once, she hit her head on the arm rest; she withdrew it lazily. That was when enough was enough, he had to ask. "Tokio, are you feeling well?"

She shook her head no; he put his hand on her forehead and, as he suspected it, she was running a fever. "You're burning up." She nodded. "You knew?"

She nodded again. "It's a psychosomatic thing; I always fall ill or a variation of that when I'm upset.

He clicked his tongue. "You knew something like that and still came here? Did you drive?" She nodded again. "This is ridiculous; and unsafe. Stand up, Tokio, we're leaving."

"N-noooo...! I came here to cry to you and cuddle your dog; can't leave yet. Haven't even began crying..."

"I'm driving you home. Let's go."

"Don't wanna."

"Where are your car keys?"

"I'm not telling you." He glared; she managed a smirk. "You're welcome to pat me down."

He looked through her purse instantly; when that yielded no results, he grabbed her discarded coat and touched the pockets. Bingo! Right pocket, of course; he should have looked there first. When he jingled them in front of her face, she pouted.

"These will be returned to you once you're feeling better; for now, they stay with me." He actually put them on the highest shelf, just to spite her. "For now, Rai, come on; we're leaving. We're taking Tokio home."

"You allow him in the car?"

"Of course I do; just grab that sheet by the door. I use it to cover the back seats."

"...I don't wanna go...!"

"I'll pick you up and put you over my shoulder if you don't come willingly."

Her first gaze was haughty but when she realised he tended to fully realise his threat, she huffed. "You are a brute. Fine, have it your way."

"Do you have anyone to look after you at home, should I make any calls?"

"I'm an adult; I've been living alone for a long time. I need no one."

"Suit yourself." A whistle later, Rai came bounding to his side, leash hanging from his mouth. "Let's go." He grabbed his own car keys, his wallet – with this license and identification – and a cardigan. They got to his car but he didn't let her sit shotgun, he sent her at the back with Rai. "He'll keep you warm till we get there and you can actually rest a bit. I bet you had a crazy day, today. Just rest."

She had fallen asleep in seconds and by the time they arrived at her house, she was jostled awake by her door opening. "Tokio, where are your keys?"

"You confiscated them, detective," she murmured, not feeling like moving any time soon.

"Not the car keys; the ones to open your door."

"Oh." She took such a long time to answer, he wondered if she'd fallen asleep again or not. "Inside pocket of coat..."

"You're wearing it." She hummed, not fully awake. "You could give them to me." She groaned, eyes closed, complaining. "Fine;" he gave in as he rummaged through her pockets again "but I'm not carrying you inside."

"That's an option only when you wanna threaten someone, is it?"

"Are you s—? What a brat. Rai, come on, we're taking Tokio upstairs."

With that, the dog happily barked and lunged for the street. Tokio fell back lamely, losing her huge, warm pillow. She groaned again, lazily sitting upright. "Why d'you hafta be so ruthless?"

After not carrying her to her apartment, but making sure she went there in one piece, he left immediately. He didn't want to stay behind with her; he feared he'd do or say something incredibly stupid. As if it wasn't enough that the two days he was at home with his family, his mother had driven him insane about her and who she could be and why hadn't he brought her over...at least, as he'd hoped, his brother had managed to put everything in perspective for him.

"Do you like this person? Do you think you can stand her long-term? If the answer to both those questions are yes, then what are you waiting for? You can never be sure of another's feelings towards you. Just go for it."

He liked her, yes; he liked having her around. But he wasn't certain he could live with her. She was bad for his health...she raised his blood pressure to start with. She was also incredibly spoiled, the very definition of princess. Then again, she made in a year more than he made the entire time he's been working for the force. She was independent; but demanding. And quite opinionated. She had this belief she could never be wrong, too. But she was sharp, insightful and empathetic; she could read his moods and situations with ease. And she was definitely the supportive type of person.

She was also too concentrated on her job, though; two workaholics didn't make for a good relationship. At the same time, this just happened; even the idea of them being together brought her such problems. She still didn't blame him, even came crying to him, which was good, but he still felt bad.

He shook his head. He'd just have to wait and see what their partnership would develop into now that she was no longer obligated to work with him and how that would affect her decision to so this on the first place.

And yet, it was the waiting game that was the hardest.

.

She called him about ten times, in the span of three days. She wasn't much of a caller, to be honest, but when she did call, it was usually because she needed something for the case or arrange a meeting. Although the first few times that was exactly the subject, the more he spurned her tries to get him to her house and work again, despite sounding ill, the more she called him about unrelated things. He would always try to hurry her – good lord, her voice sounded deeper than his – not to exert herself, but she kept calling.

"What now?"

"I'm feeling better detective; and I stopped being contagious. You may safely enter my home whenever you are able. How about this evening?"

He chuckled. "Alright, I give in. tonight, at nine; I'll bring over Rai, too."

"Whatever you want."

When he knocked on her door, nine o clock sharp – her neighbours were sending him and his dog dubious looks – he was greeted by the funniest sight he had so far: Tokio, in all of her sick, sleepy glory, clutching a steaming cup of tea in her hands, opened the door. She wore her teddy-bear themed pajamas, had her hair on a messy knot on top of her head, while she used a blanket as a cape.

She was also equipped with a surgical mask, an obvious courtesy to him.

Rai didn't care; he still jumped on her to lick her silly. Laughing, she pet his head . "Hey Rai, Hajime! I aerated the house before you came and as you can see, I'm wearing my mask, per doctor's orders. You may enter with confidence."

"Just make sure I don't get the plague."

"What a baby...don't worry, I won't infect you." It's not like they'd be doing anything other than working. "Now come inside quick, I'm starting to get cold."

"Cold?" he asked in disbelief, because just as the door closed, the heat hit him in the face. "This place is an oven;" he accused as he took off his coat and scarf "I'll start sweating soon."

"Then you're welcome to take off your shirt, too," she urged meaningfully "I won't mind."

He turned to her and held her gaze, expressionless, for a long time; just when she started thinking he took that as an insult, her heart beating quicker, he simply pulled his tie a little lower, as he always did when they worked together, and smirked.

"Take care of what you say; you may not wear that dress now, but you still can't outrun me with the blanket."

She pretended not to be amused by his comment while, in fact, fighting back a smile; she said nothing though, and simply went for the couch, graciously allowing him to take the armchair. He, though, decided to sit next to her, maybe for the first time. That took her by surprise but when he made no note of it, she simply looked away, a small smirk forming.

"I brought you Okita's findings on the officers who were involved with our main suspect." he produced a list of names and his phone. "He recorded everything and sent me an audio file."

"I'll listen to that, thank you," she took the phone out of his hands almost excited and was alrady connecting her headphones to the device "you go over these documents I've put there." She showed one corner of the table. "It's all you need for now."

"Thanks."

It hadn't been ten minutes that he felt something hit his arm; thinking she wanted to tell him something, though why she couldn't just speak he didn't know, but turned to her...only to find her half-asleep, leaning on his hand. He tensed.

"Tokio?"

She didn't speak, eyes already closed. He removed her headphones and tried again. She murmured in response but barely registered he spoke to her.

"Maybe I'm not feeling all that well, after all," she decided as he shook her, trying to make sure she was awake.

"Oh is that so? After you brought me all the way here, suddenly you aren't feeling well again, huh?" He shook his head. And to think she insisted he came two days ago, or even yesterday.

"I thought I did, but I turns out," a yawn, "I was wrong. Don't scold me," she drawled, complaining, trying to hug his hand.

His body finally relaxed; making up his mind, he raised his arm, allowing her to fall on his side and chest, curling there immediately. Rai whined, a mixture of jealous and feeling left out, but he motioned for him to be quiet. She was being very cute; he could not refuse her this. He brought her closer in this one-armed hug and she appreciated his warmth all the more. A pure feeling of care and relaxation spread out within him and leaned back on the couch, taking her with him.

"Or maybe, you just wanted an excuse to bring me here."

"And why would I want to do that?"

She was both coherent and sleepy; but he was fooled once before by her antics and ended up seeing her going through his phone, he would not fall for it again. Even if now she was actually ill.

"Because you wanted to see me again."

There was a buzzing silence.

She never withdrew from his side, but he could feel her stiffness. Was he right? When he glanced down, her eyes were turned away from him and her cheeks had gone even redder than before; he could imagine the pout underneath the mask, too. He smirked down at her and kept her firmly in place, lest she got any ideas of running away. "And, what would I do even after I found out, leave so soon? And waste all that gas? No way, I'd stay; I'd stay and keep you company."

"I admit to nothing," he barely heard her grumble and had to smother a laugh.

"Well, you were right." Her surprise was betrayed by her too quick to look at him eyes. "But I can't have you sleep-fainting on me, too; let's not work, alright? The case can wait; your health shouldn't."

A different type of warmth spread inside her; nodding, she buried her head in his shirt. He smiled. "What do you want to do?" She shrugged. They never did anything not work-related together, he realised; he was at a loss. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"I'll fall asleep through it anyway, but why not...?" She cuddled even closer, if possible, and when she saw he did not attempt to move for the remote, per her obvious desire, she smiled. "How was work?"

"Eventful."

After that first opening line, an entire series of interconnected, seemingly unrelated stories were told, all perfectly leading to the climax of the narration, which was him being attacked by a homeless man, as he looked for an abuse survivor, victimised by his used-to-be last case's suspect, in a very bad neighborhood. Her reactions had been muted but timely and appropriate, letting him know she was still listening.

"But it looks like you had a worse day than mine," he finished, taking a look around the living room and the small heaps of tissues or blankets, or used tea cups.

She nodded fiercely but when that made her dizzy, she just rubbed her head on his clothes. "It was dreadful. I hate being sick."

"Maybe it isn't just psychosomatic; maybe you caught a cold standing in front of those damn window-doors in that dress."

"Leave the dress alone; the dress is perfect."

"Perfect, but troublesome."

The conversation came to a slow end when she never answered back and he didn't care to elicit a response from her. They just sat there, tangled, and enjoyed each other's physical presence. It wasn't the eye-opened he had imagined, nor the moment he figured it would happen, but it did. He reached a conclusion: he did not mind spending time with her. Just being around her, with her, like this, was fun. It relaxed him.

As confirmation to the thought that popped up, he hugged her a little closer for a second; when her knee-jerk reaction was to squeeze him back, he smiled. He made up his mind, once she was healthy again, he was going to properly convey his sentiments. Hopefully, she'd reciprocate.

Judging by her current state, he was almost certain.

* * *

 **A/N** : Yaso is always a delight to write. I am so sorry if she seemed a little too catty, but I loved her and was looking forward to writing that scene. Now, one more chapter to go and this puppy is finished. Hope you pretties have had fun so far with these stories, because Imma keep going. I'll try not to be too annoying.

Still, leave a review, if you can, always makes my day.

Love,  
FAI~!


	19. Laws of Attraction, Final Part

**A/N** : Hello people of the internet! How have you been lovelies? I am glad to say: Yaaaay, last part is up! Thank you all so much for reviewing/favouriting, means the world. I love you all; anon, you are a joy. It's so sad I can't reply to you, like I can to everyone else, so all of my love to you, too!

Now on with the story; hope you like it sweeties.

 **Title** : Laws of Attraction  
 **Genre:** Humour, Romance, Slice of Life  
 **Alternative Universe:** Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU

* * *

"I'm worried," Saitou confided in his best friend, as they shared a quick meal at a ramen stand; it was right opposite the precinct, making it the best choice for a hurried detective; currently, two. They were taking a break from all the paperwork they had to

"Tonight will conclude the third day Tokio hasn't contacted me."

"Is she big on calling?"

"Not really, but ever since she got sick, she hasn't stopped. To complain mostly." They both chuckled at that, nodding knowingly. "She doesn't like being stuck at home and I have to hear it. But the thing is, these last three days she hasn't called or texted at all. And that's strange."

Okita considered. "If you're so worried, why don't you call her instead?"

Saitou had to think about it. He had kept waiting and waiting for her to make the first move that it never really occurred to him to do it first, it wasn't their MO. He shrugged legitimately wondered. "I don't know; I probably should."

He took out his phone immediately then, and looked at his screen. And proceeded to do just that for a very long time, hand hovering uncertainly. Okita tried not to smirk.

"I mean, I know you love the sound of your own voice, but to think you fell into the category who can't stop looking at their reflection, too, how unexpected."

"Would you shut up? I'm thinking."

"Of what? If you're so concerned, just call her."

"I promised next time she called me, I'd ask her out; it'd feel underwhelming to call her to ask her where she's been."

"Wow there, wait a minute, hold up; you promised you'd _what_?" Oh. That's right; he'd forgotten to tell Okita. "When? Did you _sleep_ with her after all?"

"No, idiot; you know I'm not like that."

He clicked his tongue. "I'd forgotten you're no fun; still, go on. You promised what, when?"

"I told you about the New Year party, right?" He nodded, wiggling his eyebrows; Saitou shook his head. "And that night I went to her house almost a week ago?" He wiggled his eyebrows even more; Saitou sighed. "Well, that's when I made up my mind; last time we talked, she sounded almost well again so I promised myself next time she calls, I ask her out. But she hasn't called since."

"Call her, my friend," Okita advised as he slurped his noodles, "you'll feel better, too."

"Hn."

Okita elbowed him. "Do it now that I see you; go on, do it, do it."

"Alright, alright; be quiet."

To think he was actually nervous about this, how ridiculous; and yet, his heartbeat quickened at the very thought. It felt as though his shirt had grown a size too small in three seconds, too and everything bothered him. He slid the screen open and then went to contacts. Eyes snapping to Okita, who kept nodding repeatedly, he pressed the green button and called her.

Heh, he'd forgotten how it felt taking a chance with another person; it was both scary and exhilarating. The moment he heard that characteristic sound, signaling whoever was on the other end of the line picked up, he took a deep breath. The smirk came involuntarily.

"Tokio."

"Hello, detective-san."

Saitou had to do a double take and make sure he had called the right number, because the voice that greeted him was unfamiliar.

"You're not Tokio; who are you? Is this her sister? Is this a bad time?"

"This is a bad time, indeed, sir, but not like you'd think. My name is Ishiwaka Haruka; I am a nurse with the Kyoto City Hospital."

He froze.

"I am afraid she cannot come to the phone sir."

"How long has she been there? Can I come see her?"

"She's been here since a little after midnight yesterday; yes, you can. Please do, in fact, I think it would help greatly."

"I'm coming right now; I will ask for you when I come. What floor?"

"Third, sir."

"Thank you, Haruka." He hang up and Okita could tell something went incredibly wrong but waited till Saitou digested the news himself before he asked, or, as it did happen, Saitou shared all on his own. "Tokio's at the hospital."

Okita gaped.

"Yeah, no kidding; I thought she'd gotten better, but apparently I was wrong." He sighed. "Now I feel horrible for making fun of her last time." He clicked his tongue as he searched his pockets for some money. "Okita, do you mind explaining to Hijikata why I left early?" He threw some notes on the stand, next to his almost finished bowl.

"No man, just go. I only hope it isn't anything serious—though I did hear a lot of cases of pneumonia lately."

"Don't jinx it, bastard," he bit out as he finally walked away.

"Send her my well-wishes," Okita shouted after him as he retreated.

Saitou waved his friend okay – or away – and headed straight for his car, pissed off with himself. He'd go buy her a very nice, huge get-well-soon basket, to feel like less of an asshole for thinking she was actually avoiding him or she had started going back on that promise to help with the case hence, stopped calling. And poor woman was just too sick to call. He should have gone to see her again, after all.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. This was not a good state of mind to drive; alright, he could do this. He could definitely do this.

Just as he put the first gear in and tried to start the car, his phone rang; thinking it could be from the hospital, he snatched it up instantly...only to literally throw it in the backseat a second later, seeing it was a number he did not have saved, knowing it was Yaso. Oh boy, this day was not getting any better.

Relax, he commanded himself then, you are a grown man. You can do this.

And he did.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of the nurses' station, in Kyoto City Hospital, with the biggest, most ridiculous gift basket anyone had ever seen, looking for the woman he had spoken with on the phone. When the woman in the reception lay eyes on him, smiled.

"Births are on the sixth floor, sir," a nurse told him in passing, but when he simply shook his head, the nurse there finally spoke. "May I help you?"

"My name is Saitou Hajime; I'm looking for Ishiwaka Haruka, she's expecting me."

The nurse lifted a dubious eyebrow. "Haruka-san is?"

"We spoke on the phone; I'm here for Takagi Tokio."

"Oh!" The woman immediately stood and left her seat. "Yes, sir, I'll go get her right now! Please wait right here."

He nodded, watching her go, perplexed. This woman's reaction was a little...over the top. She was just ill; why was it such a big deal she was alerted so fast? A bad feeling gripped his stomach. Something felt off, but he couldn't tell what. Still, he waited there, as instructed, to see where all this was going. And when he saw Ishiwaka Haruka, a middle-aged, no-nonsense looking woman, come his way hurried and breathless, the bad feeling only worsened.

The fact that she was almost surprised to see the gift that she almost stopped her advance, was another bad sign.

"Are you Saitou Hajime-san?" He nodded; her eyebrow raised, still shooting furtive glances at the basket. "I am Haruka, it's good to see you're here. Would you like to see her?"

"Of course."

They started walking towards the patients' wing, the woman briefing him at the same time. "She just got out of the ICU an hour ago. The doctor who operated on her is here, he's been expecting you."

There it was; his stomach took a free dive to his feet and he stopped walking altogether. He looked at her disbelieving. "ICU? Operated? Why? She was just sick...!"

The nurse blinked. "Pardon?"

"She was sick—that's why she came here, isn't it? It got too much."

"Sir, are you sure we are talking about the same Takagi Tokio?"

He clicked his tongue. "Of course we are; you had her phone, you answered it. It can't be that much of a coincidence, can it? Now will you tell me why she was operated on and when?"

Haruka blanched. "So you have no idea? I...I thought you were a real detective."

"I am," he deadpanned but by now he was internally panicking, almost. Why would they need a _detective_? "Haruka, I won't ask again. What's wrong with Tokio."

The doctor made an appearance just then; his office was only five metres ahead of them and it was all glass—he saw them approach and met them half way.

"Hello Hajime-san, my name is Saikano Kojima; I'm the doctor who operated on Tokio-san."

"Enough is enough," he snapped, really close to actually snapping "why did she need an operation and where the hell is she? I want to see her."

The doctor gave the nurse a look. "I thought you said he was a detective."

"I am," he repeated with an edge "why do you need one?"

The doctor looked at the basket and then him; he exchanged looks with the nurse. "Am I to assume you are her significant other who happens to be a detective?"

"...I felt bad for making fun of her for her cold," he finally addressed the issue "I overcompensated." As if that was a cue of some sort, everyone started walking. Hajime assumed they were leading him to Tokio. "But I can tell, that's not why she's here; so why is she?"

"...when the ambulance brought her in, she was bleeding profusely; once we provided first aid, she was transferred to Surgery. It took five long hours, but we managed to stabilise her. She remained in the ICU after that, until ten minutes ago, when we deemed her condition not critical."

Then, the doctor sighed, giving Saitou enough time to process the new information as well as warn him for what was about to come. "She was shot three times; the one that was the hardest to tend to was the gunshot wound to the chest, it was very close to the main artery. The other two look bad but aren't as serious—shoulder and calf. She was lucky in a sense, because the bullet didn't hit too much of the bone. Anyway, we managed; and she's strong. Already healing..."

It took everything out of him not to sag and fall under the weight of these news; he felt his body becoming slower and heavier. He wanted nothing more than to see her and make sure she's alive, breathing, holding on; last thing he wanted, at the same time, was see her lying on that bed that he'd watched far too many people end up on, maybe for the same reason even, and in the end, never make it.

Each step was another battle, another dilemma. But every single time, worry won and he kept walking next to the doctor, ahead of the nurse, holding a superfluous gift basket, trying to look as tall as everyone knew he was.

"Due to the nature of the violence inflicted upon her, she's been given a different name as well as description on public file."

"You did very well to keep with protocol; but why didn't you report it? You're forced by law—"

"I'm begging your pardon sir, but I reported this incident myself," the nurse butted in, absolute and nearly furious "not ten minutes after the doctors told us what was going on. Other than the gunshot wounds, she also sported several abrasions and what appeared to be slashes from a big knife, so I personally called to notify the police. I thought that's why you were calling."

Wait a minute; if she'd reported it, say, at one am, a detective had to come no later than two; but according to them, or their reaction anyway, no law enforcement personnel paid a visit, or even took their deposition. If that was the case then this...this was even worse than he thought just a second ago.

"Am I the first detective to show up for her?"

They nodded wildly; his heart lurched in his chest painfully. A terrible thought crossed his mind then and his feet took flight—he had to reach her, get to her room as soon as possible, see her lying there, make sure she was still there, still alive, still healing; praying no one had come for her while these people were having a break to eat or sleep. Because long shifts were exhausting; he knew first hand. It was not unusual to crush on a couch for a couple of hours to pull yourself together, put your thoughts in order...stay away from the blood for an hour or two.

"She's in here," the doctor announced, as he stopped in front of a plain, standard numbered door.

The room was 329; he burned it into memory.

The second it took for the doctor to open the door and the insides of the room to be revealed, Saitou had died and came back to life three times. Holding his breath, he stepped in front of the man and pushed the door open indelicately. When his eyes fell directly upon the sole bed of the room, his heart beat stopped. When he saw that it was still occupied, by the most familiar person, too, his heart beat worked overtime to compensate. And when the repeating, steady beeping of the machines registered in his mind, he exhaled relieved.

Tokio was right there in front of him, lying unconscious on a bed, eyes closed but heartbeat strong. She was alive. Haggard, wounded and pale, needing that thing to provide oxygen for her, but alive.

He walked to her bedside, trying to get a good look, despite his better judgment and all of the alarm bells that went off in his head. Both her hands were wrapped up in bandages; so was most of her torso and her left shoulder; her right leg, too but he only knew because it peaked out underneath the sheet. Her face sported several bruises and her lip was badly cut.

It was time to sit down now; he could feel his legs wanting to give in.

It was so...unheard of to him, to see anyone, especially a woman, he cared about that had nothing to do with his job so beaten, so hurt, so white—white as death, almost. He never really minded hospitals, nor visiting his friends there; he could count the times he had to go to Okita's bedside on not one, but two hands; but it never affected him like this. Even when his sister almost had a miscarriage three years ago and he went to see her, yes he was distressed, but not to the point where he could barely stand or look at her.

Then again, his sister wasn't the victim of an extremely violent attack. If only he could get his hands on the bastards that—...

Oh right; this was connected to their case. Some corrupt bastards needed to pay for this. He took out his phone and stared at the screen again. Ugh, twice in one day that he hesitated calling, although for completely different reasons. He had to call Okita and explain what happened and then have him send only trustworthy detectives to take over the case.

But he just couldn't. He feared what he'd sound like, if he was to call right this instant.

Only this once, timing decided it for him, as well as Okita himself—he was calling! He never really believed in God or what have you, but if this wasn't a sign, nothing was. He picked up after he exited the room.

"Hey Saitou, quick question that once you've answered Imma explain why I asked it: how are things with Tokio?"

His breath hitched a little before answering "terrible." When Okita said nothing, obviously waiting for more, he reluctantly elaborated. "She's not here because she's sick; she's here because she was attacked. Three gunshots and multiple cuts all over her hands and torso."

The explicit language Okita demonstrated found Saitou in total agreement.

"Why are you asking?"

"Because someone in here knew about it."

All of Saitou's hostility came to a peak, right then and there. "I already I know who it is, because I tracked the rumour down before calling you on purpose; long story short, when I told Hijikata why you would not return for the remainder of your shift, he told me to ask Toudou to fill in; when I asked him, there was another one present there and when I explained to him what happened, he, naturally, told everyone. Ten minutes later, the entire precinct is talking about it; another five minutes after, Nagakura comes to me and asks what's wrong with Tokio. I tell him what you told me then and he seems relieved. I ask him why and he says...someone gave him _condolences_ to relay to me and I to you and how they were sorry for your loss, because, apparently, she was killed. Not succumbed to the illness or hit by a car—killed."

"Finish your story, I have something to ask you, too."

"So, I ask Nagakura who he heard it from and how that was ridiculous and he points to Maki; Maki points to Rin and so on so forth...until I deduct, the one who started the rumour was none other than Handa."

" _Handa_?"

"Oh yes; Handa."

"I see..." Squirrely, timid Handa was involved in this; he wouldn't have guessed. "Now this is what I need you to do: other than keeping a close eye on the bastard, I want you to keep quiet about this and pretend I haven't made it to the hospital yet, because of some reason, make up one. Then go to Hijikata and tell him everything; have him assign someone he trusts with her case, and **not** me." He sighed. "Then ask him if you can access all the incoming calls to the precinct somehow. Kyoto City Hospital connects with our dispatch, it's the closest. And the nurse taking care of Tokio assured me she reported the incident. Yet no cop or detective have shown up at all—I was the first."

"Someone erased it."

He nodded. "And no one outside the precinct can do that. They have to be there."

"My belief it was Handa is only strengthened, because do you know who he's been flirting with lately?" A smirk came over Okita's lips. "One of our cute, sweet dispatchers. And if he's dirty, it makes sense to want access there."

"Call me once all matters are settled, or if anything more important happens."

He took a breath, ready to say something more, but decided against it.

"What is it?"

"...I'm not confident enough to say it; I'll wait until Handa is interrogated, to reveal who's paying him."

"Say it or you might regret not sharing it earlier."

"...I think at least one of Tokio's bosses is involved." The silence, he could tell, was the stunned kind. "It can't be a coincidence she was attacked immediately after she quit."

"It's been a week though," Okita protested.

"And she's been staying at home where she was frequently visited by friends and family alike, due to her being sick. If yesterday was the first day she actually left her home..."

"God, you're right." Okita's tone betrayed his shock. "I'll make sure to look into it. What are you going to do till then?"

"I'm staying here." There was no question nor need for permission.

"Until when?"

"Until she checks out."

"Saitou, that could be days from now!"

"But if someone isn't here at all times, how do you know she won't be attacked again? If the entire precinct heard of her being in the hospital, it meant it'll reach whoever commissioned this hit, too. They won't hesitate trying again and if she's left alone for too long, they won't even need to shoot her—just a shot will do. Tell Hijikata I'm taking guard duty; if he has any issues with it, he can come talk to me personally here."

"...alright."

"But tell him that after you've gotten permission for the rest."

A short, knowing laugh was shared. "You bet; once I'm done here, I'll come visit her, too so, wait for me, okay?"

"I will."

He hang up and walked back in without delay. He collapsed in the chair next to the bed.

It was three hours later that his cellphone vibrated; he hadn't moved from his spot for the duration of his stay and neither did he now. But, seeing the caller ID wrote Hijikata, he sat up a little straighter. The moment he answered and identified himself, he heard his superior's voice.

"Saitou, how are things on your end?"

"No news, sir; she's still unconscious. The doctor says it could take another hour or day, no one knows. You?"

He tried to sound formal, but the exhaustion seeped into his voice all the same. It wasn't physical, no; it was mental. All the thoughts that circulated his mind, his body, his reason, it drained him.

"About that." Oh no; even Hijikata had to prepare him for the news, by pausing. He greet his teeth. "I have two orders to give you and you must follow both: first is, do not come by the precinct until I personally call you to say otherwise. The other is, you must remain by the lawyer's side until she wakes up at least."

He perked up at that.

"Toudou and Nagakura are taking over her case, once they can actually go."

"Why can't they go?"

"...short version, we are in lock-down. No one's allowed in or out."

They were in what now?"

"We are weeding out the informants once and for all. Just know that by the time this is over, the precinct's gonna be clean. I have to go now."

With those rather good news, his phone rang for the final time.

It was about an hour after that, he finally remembered what he was neglecting: her parents had to be notified, didn't they? And no one called them. He should do it. No matter how unattractive a duty it seemed, he knew it was important. Sighing, because no one had given him hers, he took out his phone and searched the internet for her father's practice. There were bound to be numbers and emails there that he could call. When he did find some, he called the one that was deemed the hardest to find, hoping the line would lead directly to Kojuuro.

He wasn't right but he wasn't wrong either; a middle aged woman answered, after ringing only twice and asked him what he wanted.

"My name is Saitou Hajime; I need to speak to Kojuuro-san immediately. It's an emergency."

"Sir, he's in a meeting with a very important client. Do you mind calling in an hour?"

"Madam, this has to do with his youngest daughter's health; it's a real emergency."

The sharp intake of breath was unmistakable. "Is Tokio-chan unwell?" But then, as if berating herself, she hastened to assure "I'm giving him the line as we speak."

There was a second's delay and then he heard her father. "Sir, this is Saitou Hajime; your daughter is in Kyoto City Hospital, please come as soon as you're able."

"What?"

He could _hear_ him going pale, that's how bad it was. "But we visited yesterday morning and she was fine...!"

"She's not sick; she's been attacked. Please come, sir; your presence will help. The room is on the third floor, number is 329, she's the only patient. I'll be here. Bye for now."

He hung up, taking a deep breath. Alright, he did it, it was out of the way. Now all he had to do was wait for her to open her eyes.

Her parents came about an hour later; her siblings, first time he ever met them, came ten minutes later. The entire core family was in one room, standing over her morose and – some – crying. He decided that four people in one room was too much then and took his leave, standing right outside. Besides, this was for all intents and purposes, a family matter. He'd hate to intrude.

"Hajime," her father walked out of her room, leaving his wife to sob in the company of her children "thank you for letting us know."

Kojuuro might not have been crying, but he was just as bad; Saitou could relate. "How are you holding on?"

"...she's breathing; we'll be fine. We have to be strong for her, too." In a surprising twist, it was her father who put his hand on Saitou's back and hit him twice. "You hang in there, too. It can't be easy for you, either. I know you haven't been together too long but..." He could see; and he respected it.

"The only reason I'm still so together is because, otherwise, I fear something worse could happen," he admitted in a fit of honesty, not caring to correct the misconception at all; as non-committal as he sounded, her father could tell this actually affected him to his very core. He squeezed his shoulder in solidarity.

"We are all still coming to terms with it." They shared a nod. "Why don't you come back inside? You belong in there as much as the rest of us."

"I'll be here for a very long while, sir; my superior agreed to allow me to stay here for her own protection. Until she at least wakes up, I can't leave the room, if she isn't in the presence of someone I trust. Once you leave, because you can't stay too long, I'll go back inside. But not before that—too many people for one room."

"As you wish."

They took forty minutes more; everyone bid him goodbye as they made their exit, gave him thanks and promises to return. Her mother hugged him, too. Well, he couldn't blame any reaction. Everyone dealt with shock and grief differently. At the very least, she was only hurt. She would heal and so would they. So would he.

.

"Hey."

An electric current ran through his entire body, and just as he had leaned back in his chair the small voice urged him forward. His eyes snapped to her in a daze, fearing what he heard was only an illusion, simple wishful thinking, until he saw the little smile, distorted by the oxygen mask. Her eyes were barely open a crack, but they were nonetheless. And her breathing was more labored now, because having consciousness meant there was extra effort put into it. His heart soared as he felt the weight of the entire world shed from his shoulders.

"Hey," he answered right back and made sure to take her hand into his. She tried to squeeze in greeting, but it was too weak. He decided to do it in her stead and by her reaction, she appreciated it.

"Good evening, detective..."

It was hard for her to speak, but she did it anyway. He knew he couldn't persuade her to stop before she got some basic information, so he said nothing about it yet.

"Good _morning_ ; it's five am."

"It is?" Her words slurred, one melding with the other. "It feels I've been here longer than five hours, though..."

"You've been in the hospital for twenty nine hours; it's almost Friday."

If her eyes could become any larger without causing her pain, they would have. Apparently, she wasn't expecting that. But then she must have realised something and turned to him in question. "Why are you here then? I thought...you'd be...solving the case by now."

"Don't be ridiculous; I can't possibly work on your case." She gave him a look that needed an explanation. "I work all of my cases with the idea that the one responsible should face justice for his or her crimes; but justice is the last thing on my mind right now."

That last part was said a little darkly, it made her stare...and smile. "Did you know," she closed her eyes, suddenly feeling even more exhausted, but safe "the one who did this tried to pin this on you."

The horrified, offended and completely furious glare that came over his face told her all she needed to know about what he thought of the fact. "Indeed; said something about how whoever's...doing this...doesn't need me anymore. How I served my...usefulness."

"See? This is why I should not be involved. I might snap someone's neck in the process."

She tried to chuckle, but it hurt her. "I didn't believe them Hajime...but...that...only means that someone who knows something about us did is in on...it."

"Enough, Tokio, stop talking. I'll tell you all that I know so far." He took a deep breath. "Hijikata had Handa arrested—Handa was the guy who made sure no detective took your case; they killed him in booking before he spilled names, but the idiot who did, didn't have time to erase the footage of him killing Handa, so we found him, too. Then a fight broke out in the department, people blaming one another and secrets being uncovered. By the time it was eight pm, one third of the precinct was in custody, facing criminal charges."

He took a deep breath and his eyes slid to her. "Some did give up names; and one of the names heard, were none other than Katsu Jonouchi." Her chin nearly fell. "Yes, the one who used to pay your salary. The bastard was in on it—that's why he was trying to take you off the case. He knew it was only a matter of time, if you kept digging. And to think I bowed my head to him, even as a simple formality."

"That asshole...!"

"Yeah; dirty bastard had a whole bunch of cops and mobsters on his payroll." Shaking his head, he pushed back his hair. "The only matter left needing to be solved is who physically performed the deed your boss ordered him to."

"The one who tried to stab me? Who shot me?"

He winced at the sound of that; did she have to say it like that? "Was it just one?" She nodded yes. "Why couldn't he stab you?"

"It wasn't for lack of trying...but mum's a martial artist; taught me how to defend myself since I was...five. Guy didn't stand...a chance. That was why," she yawned impressively "he resorted to shooting." A derisive snort later, she was almost asleep again. "What...a coward...Hajime, will you go?"

How could he? "I'll stay."

"Great," she said through another yawn "just...make sure...Rai's...taken...care...of."

And just like that, she fell asleep again. A warmth spread through him like wildfire and didn't even realise he was caressing her hand until he had to stop so the doctor could take her pulse. He didn't go into the trouble of telling them she woke, even if he definitely should have, because, somehow, all he could see was her. All he could do was hold her cold hand, desperately trying to warm it. But the machines showed a spike that told the attending she must have woken and he came to check; when he confirmed it, the doctor seemed quite pleased with the development.

"We have a spare bed if you'd like to use it," he suggested, feeling sorry for the very tall man who had to make due with a standard hospital chair. "It's in the break room."

"I'm not leaving her," he warned "but thanks for he offer."

In his sleep-deprived mind, even the doctor's legitimate concern sounded like potential grounds for suspicion. Maybe he did need the rest. Once the time read seven, he'd call Okita. He was the only one he could trust with this duty other than himself. Okita would keep her safe for sure.\

Nagakura arrested the man who shot her three days later, an impressive feat, for the man was constantly on the run. At the same time, her former boss, Katsu, gave up more names in order to earn himself a plea or at lest shave time off of his sentence. Meanwhile, Tokio's father was working full time on no other case than his daughter's; he was the one who was going to help the state make the case against this whole crime ring they uncovered and tackle the corruption in her stead. Of course, he didn't scorn prosecuting the lowlife who shot her and despite being pulled in all directions by people, departments – Hijikata was the main pressure, mostly – and governmental authorities, he performed an enviable job.

Yes, given the circumstances and the fact they had so many testimonies, the case became easier. It was no big deal to impeach their financial records, uncover plots for murder or cover-ups, but it still took monumental effort to find all of those things and put them all in one place and then, oh god, in a chronological order to tell a convincing story.

Of course, once Tokio got out of the hospital, a week after she woke up, she took to working the case and helping, too. Naturally, both Okita and Hajime strayed with her and the case, even if they took more cases after their would be last case was over. Hijikata had been very understanding about things, too, and surprisingly, offered his own help if things ever got inaccessible for his two detectives.

The case took three months.

Although Hajime had this idea that Tokio was an impressive lawyer from before, it was only cemented when he watched her sternly talk down people twice her age or size while still bandaged and getting her way on merit alone. That was to say, he was still amazed by her father; he had a way of doing things that just...got things done. It was experience and amassed respect from his peers that were the causes of that, the name he had made for himself. In comparison, yes, he was better than her, but Hajime could easily see Tokio overtaking her father in five years from now. She had a nerve and a got-them attitude Kojuuro didn't; coupled with the fact she basically learnt from him, she would be great.

Once their case was closed, certain things came to an end, too. Hijikata decided it was time to stop their partnership, as far as the police was concerned. Tokio finally made the big decision to go work under her father, a choice she didn't make at first because she didn't want to be coddled or be taken lightly but after that reputation – of being so determined, she got shot – who in their mind would doubt her?

"Hajime, you're being ridiculous," she accused, as she smacked his shoulder; the sharp movement caused her a little pain, too, bone still healing. "I'm fine."

"I saw you wince, you know."

"That's nothing; _I'm fine_. I said so long ago, didn't I: once I'm feeling entirely well, the first thing I'll do is cook? Well, I'll be cooking; both today and tomorrow. Haven't cooked in ages...!"

"I didn't bring you here so you can shop for ingredients," he retorted, stern "but to get you something to eat, both for today and tomorrow."

Since none of her family could bring her. In fact, this little trip of theirs to the market was the first time he had seen her in a week—the first week she moved back to her own apartment. Once the case was over, he...distanced himself. It was an informed decision, not just an urge. He had taken it very hard, this whole incident; he viewed it as his fault, to some extent, too. She quit because of him, in a sense, and this happened; it was his case, his problem and it led to that.

He positively freaked out and pulled away, yes; he'd accept that. But he could not fathom how that would be bad for her—so far it hadn't caused anything further. Even if she had actually given him a key to said apartment just in case, because, as she'd casually admitted one day, she trusted him. Who better to keep an eye on her or come find her should things go awry again?

"I'm perfectly capable of stirring a liquid!"

"Not yet, you aren't. I'm not blind. I can see how you pause between movements. You don't have to push yourself Tokio." She did not give in; he sighed. "But you never listen, so why start now? Fine, let's go shopping."

Satisfied, she started leading him here and there, while sticking him with all of the shopping bags. They weren't few, too. "What are you gonna do? A charity for the homeless?"

"No, idiot, but I decided to make you dinner!" That was news to him. "As a thanks, for everything." Her smile was sweet and knowing. "And to celebrate the promotion you never told me you got, about a month ago." He tried to speak, defend himself, but the air left his lungs without turning into words. "Sounds familiar?"

"How do you even know about that?"

"Okita told me; a day after you were both promoted." _That traitor_. "Said our time together would dwindle because of it, but we could still finish the case." She crossed her arms, glaring. "And yet, you never even mentioned anything. Neither did I, I just waited. Figured you'd tell me on your own terms, sooner or later...any day now...and here we are today, a month plus later and I had to tell you I know, otherwise you still wouldn't admit it."

Her glare intensified. "Why?"

He shrugged, trying to change the subject. "It was no big deal. I told you it would happen at some point anyway."

"You once said you could be reassigned to another district, too; would you tell me if you left, or would I just have to guess that, too?"

He was looking away, avoided answering her; she could tell this was making him uncomfortable. But she didn't care. "Anything else of importance you aren't sharing with me?"

"Yaso never stopped calling me."

"Hajime!" She smacked his arm, chin hanging. "Are you being serious?" He nodded. "Wh—why didn't you tell me!?"

"Because, if I were to rank your concerns, being shot, working sleepless nights to catch an entire ring of high ranking corrupt people and concerning yourself with my ex-wife it's obvious which ones take precedent."

"But Yaso is the only one that can be solved immediately. Just...ugh, this is ridiculous. You better come at my house and eat the damn food or I'll give you enough cause to get out _two_ restraining order—this one against me. Get it?"

He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips; it was nice to see her old self again. "Yes, ma'am."

"And don't you dare make any excuses and not show up tomorrow."

"As you wish...what will you make?"

Her eyes slid to him, dangerous and daring him to say anything about it. "Lamb stew." To his surprise, she pursed her lips. "It's for your promotion, remember?" she almost barked; he pretended to be innocent and unaware. She deemed it satisfactory. "Eight o clock sharp; don't be late."

 _I might be a little late; Hijikata gave me a new assignment._

That was received at nine in the morning.

 _I'll try to make it, but I might not. Don't be too mad._

Sent after five.

 _I'll be late; but I'll make it._

Read seven twenty five.

 _I'll be very late._

Sent at nine. Seen a moment later.

Tokio sighed relieved, but still anxious. Yes, this was about his promotion but not _entirely_ ; in fact, it was all a carefully orchestrated attempt to lure him out of his shell, bring him back to her space. Ever since she got shot, whenever they met, they met strictly at his, or Okita's place. Sometimes, when her father worked with them, they met at his office. He hadn't dared step a single foot in there. Despite clearly being caring, and involved, he started becoming all the more...distant, the more the people's responsible conviction became certain.

Until, two weeks ago, he stopped all communications. Not exactly, though, he'd answer her calls, her texts or check in with her about her health. Once the doctor said she no longer needed any medication or bandages, he stopped checking in completely. She was thick, but not that much. She could tell. And she didn't want this to end like this, she had to do something about it...and this was the solution she found. Guilt him into take her shopping and then bully him into a dinner; he never could say no to her, after all.

And she was not going to lie, that second text got her worried, but the third put her mind at ease again. Of course, when he said he'd be late, she hadn't expected she'd fall asleep on the couch waiting for him, but there she was: she had nodded off twice already and the clock on the wall read eleven.

What a day.

"Tokio...wake up."

The familiar voice pulled her out of her chaotic thoughts; she forced her eyes to open a crack. Hooded with sleep as they were, they could barely make out Saitou's outline, but they did. He was there.

A small smile formed on her lips.

"Mmm, you came..."

"I did."

It could be her imagination but she swore his voice sounded a little different than usual; she couldn't tell what that difference was though, not yet.

"I had to."

She was intrigued by that, but almost closed her eyes as they were, she couldn't properly convey it. She attempted to sit up, but stumbled and fell back down. At least, she finally knew what it was: he sounded _soft_. Careful.

"What do you..." she stifled a yawn "mean?"

"I'm sorry, Tokio, I haven't been so forthcoming with you." That caused her to open her eyes properly and look at him; he smirked. "But I'll make it up to you."

"What...?"

His hand came to rest at the back of her head and brought her close; at the same time, she watched as he slowly, but certainly, leaned towards her more and more and more...until their lips met.

Alright, she was awake now.

And her body had memory; that jolt of electricity returned, but now it was multiplied by a thousand. Everything tingled and her toes curled again, but the desire was far more potent. His kisses were probing, demanding but soft. His hand descended to her chin, her neck; then her shoulder and sides and she could die from feeling so light-headed. Her fingers had grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him closer.

When the kiss deepened...she stopped. She tasted something metallic. She broke away from him and touched her lips, making sure the moisture wasn't from her.

"Hajime, are you _hurt_?"

For a moment, his heart had sank to the pit of his stomach, thinking she was rejecting him, but he found it within him to chuckle. "Why do you ask?"

"I can taste blood—are you alright?"

She reached out blindly, trying to find the light, but he stopped her efforts. "I'll live."

"Hajime!"

Without a second thought, she jumped off the couch and headed for the switch; when she turned on the big lights, she gasped, upon looking at him. "What happened to you?" She rushed to his side, inspecting the bruises on his face, the cuts on his lips, the sling he had his left hand in. "Why aren't you in the hospital?"

"I was; they released me."

"What happened!?"

"...we walked into a trap; the information was insufficient and instead of a drug den, we walked into a terrorist base."

Her breath caught.

"I got the worst of it; Okita is much better...but still hurt."

"Oh Buddha," she lamented as she put a hand on his face as gently as possible, "look at you."

"I've looked worse."

"So have I and lemme tell you, that's not very comforting." He glared at her at that, but she just shook her head. "At least you're here..."

"You did threaten me into it."

"Yes, otherwise you wouldn't have come, but hospital stays are excused...! But don't think I haven't noticed what you were trying to do. Which is why this" she showed herself and him "seems a little surprising."

"You rethink some things when you're staring down the barrel of a gun." Her shock was deemed cute. "Look, I know I've been an ass and I'm sorry."

She raised a flat palm. "I'm not an idiot; I know, or I can tell. You seem the type to do that. But you aren't an idiot either. So, the point is...what do you want?"

"What do I want?"

"What do you want from me? For yourself?"

He regarded her for a very long moment. Nothing slipped by this woman, it was mildly disconcerting. But also, helpful. He smirked.

"I want you; _all_ of you, not just the parts you're comfortable showing to people for a day, or a night, or a week. I want all of it."

She hummed. "It's been a very long time I did any of that, you'll have to be patient with me. And you really have to end this whole thing with Yaso."

He nodded _I know_ wearily. "I'll talk to her as soon as we're both able, I'll clear things up."

"Perfect. So, do you still want to eat or not? The food's ready."

"I'm starving! Of course I do; that's why I'm here anyway," he teased in the end, as she was already walking to the kitchen, to avoid any forms of aggression "for the food."

"Oh is that so?" He stayed away until she had retrieved the food from within the over and her hands were full to come closer. "Then I'll just wrap it up for you and send you on your way."

"I'm here now, though; it would be a waste of money and time."

She threw him both mittens in succession, the moment she let the thing down. "Wait," she had an epiphany "how did you get here?"

"Took a cab."

"Thank Buddha. I feared you decided to drive instead." She shook her head. "Both you and the lamb are staying the night." She have him a look. "Especially the lamb."

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "Fair enough; I'll set the table." The are-you-sure stare she sent him, he scoffed at it. " _One_ arm is in a sling, just one."

"Alright. By the way," she continued after a moment's pause "I hope you're free this Sunday. Mum invited you to lunch."

"Oh?" He looked over his shoulder. "How so?"

"They all still think we are together since November, so, long overdue, I suppose..."

"I'll be there."

"Great."

They sat down to eat, next to each other; he attempted to avoid revealing any sort of sensitive information about the raid he participated in, while dodging incriminating answers to her never-ending questions about how in God's name he ended up like that. It was a long night...but, at least, the food was delicious.

.

"Tokio, are you ready?"

"I'm looking for my purse."

"It's on the table."

"My _other_ purse, obviously." He rolled his eyes; of course she was. How could he make such a mistake? "Found it~!"

"Perfect; hurry it up now..." When she emerged, and he noticed her finger, he glared. "What did I tell you about the ring? Take it off."

"But it's my ring!"

"Yes, but not yet, not officially. Now take it off and give it to me."

"I don't want to," she complained, pouting, and looked at said ring on her finger. It was a simple platinum band, that formed intertwining vines close to the centre piece, which was a small, tasteful round sapphire. "Look how pretty it is."

"I know, that's why I chose it; but you have to take it off," he waved the ring box in her face "we talked about this."

"No, we didn't; you just mumbled something about Okita and your mother and fell asleep."

"What I said was, Okita said he'd kill me if I proposed a second time without him being present, as well as my mother would kill me if she found out I proposed in lieu of her, after flying her out for ring shopping a week earlier."

"Then you shouldn't have given it to me yesterday!"

"But you're a master interrogator."

"You kept the ring in the nightstand," she deadpanned "how difficult a decision was it really?"

"Well, it felt natural; but they'll still kill me if they find out. This will be our little secret."

She shook her head. "What a child..."

"Just take it off, it has caused me enough headaches." At her questioning look, he snorted. "I almost fought with your father over this ring, too."

That was news to her. "Why?"

Saitou averted his eyes. "He said the ring wasn't as good as it could have been."

Her laughter was boisterous. "Let me guess, he wanted a ring with a stone five times the size of this one." His distaste was all the answer she needed; she laughed again. "Dad's terrible at picking out jewelry; he think ostentatious means you care...that's why I never ask him for something. I pick it out and ask him to buy it for me. He has a bad record. Ask mother."

"He even suggested to cover the difference." He snorted, as she covered her mouth, trying to keep herself quiet. "I told him I don't need help; and even if I did, I'd never ask him—the bride's father. That's just bad manners."

"This ring is perfect," she added in the end and looked at it once more.

"You bet it was; I did pick it out myself."

"You have exceedingly good taste, Hajime," she complimented, planting a lingering kiss on his lips. "I have no complains." Her hands slithered around his neck, but right before they connected, he slapped them away.

"Behave; Okita will be over in ten minutes."

"Hmm, but what if he's late?"

She tried kissing his neck, climbing on her tiptoes, but he avoided her once more. "He'll be here in ten minutes; he's already five minutes late as it is."

"You're no fun...!"

"Just take the ring off before he rings the bell."

"You put it on my finger, you take it off."

When she actually extended her hand separating the fingers, he realised she was not, in fact, joking. "What a brat," he moaned but did it. "Now go put on your coat and shoes and we're gone." He put the ring in the box and pocketed the whole thing. "We can't be late."

"Hajime, Okita isn't even here yet."

"We'll wait by the car."

"Two years; two years! Why can't we ever leave without you rushing me, just once?"

" _Two years_ and we can't ever go anywhere without you almost making us late."

"Hajime, we're never late; just because we aren't half an hour early, doesn't mean we're late."

"Yes, it does." She threw him the pump she was about to wear but instead of dodging it, he actually caught it in the air. "Throw me the other one so I can wrestle you into them."

"Don't tempt me...!"

The bell rang just then, as if to finish the argument. "Okita is here." He said it in a very smug tone; she did throw the other shoe in the end. "You put these on as I let the man in."

"Don't let the man in; you bring yourselves out," their guest's voice was heard from behind the door. "I can hear you through the door, yes; hurry it up, I don't wanna be late to the lunch where both of your families finally meet for the first time, too."

"Let's just go," Tokio gave in, finally both pumps on. "Rai, you're coming, too." The dog barked happily from the couch, tail wagging. "You'll keep Okita company in the backseat."

"I heard that, too!" he protested.

"You were meant to!" she shouted back.

"Besides," Saitou snapped as he pulled the door open and let everyone through "what's wrong with my dog, asshole?"

" _Our_ dog," she corrected.

"Let's just go..." Okita shook his head.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Saitou snapped as he locked the door.

"Every single time we have to be somewhere, I swear..." Tokio mumbled at their bickering and Saitou's mood. "Yes, yes, you locked the door only a thousand times, we can leave now." He shot her the look; she chuckled. "I love you, but you're paranoid."

"You've been shot on more than one occasion so don't give me that."

"The second time doesn't count...!"

"Yes, it does," both men chorused as they all made their way to the car; hearing the commotion, Rai barked, too.

"Traitor."

"Oh, before we go," Okita remembered, giving his friend a shrewd look "did you remember to take _the thing_?"

Tokio tried very hard not to smile; Saitou smirked. "I did; thanks. The thing's with me."

"What's the thing?" Tokio decided to play dumb.

"You don't need to know everything," Okita put an end to it summarily. Rai barked, as if to confirm him.

"Well, if Rai says so, too..." Tokio gave in and smiled.

Okita was a good friend; Rai was a good dog. Hajime was a good man. Her life was on a good track.

* * *

 **A/N** : Yass, this puppy is finished. Hope it did in a satisfying manner to you all. Leave a review, tell me what you thought. And once I update my other fic, a new AU is coming right up. It's quite unexpected, but that one grew on me while I wasn't looking.

Love, FAI~!


	20. The right accidents, Part one

**A/N** : Hi, hi! How have you been? New AU for today, aaaaaaye! Me and my beta were talking, we got to the part about new stories and such and joked on Saitou as a gigolo. Do you have any idea how hilarious that'd have been? Oh well, no matter, I don't have the heart to write that, so I came up with this instead. I hope you like it. It's going to be short and to the point, two chapters. I hope you like it, lovely people of the internet.

 **Beta'd** by: **Error205**

 **Title** : The right accidents.  
 **Genre** : Romance, Angst(kind of)  
 **Alternative Universe** : Modernday, One Night Stand

* * *

Today was grueling and that itself was an understatement, but when it came from the most disciplined detective of the precinct, it must have been a really shitty day. Nothing about it was a good thing, not one. Not even that after all was said and done the – now – five of them went out for a coffee; and then lunch; then an afternoon coffee..and now, home. Home, to find that nice bottle of scotch he loved so much and have a drink or two...or five. As much as were needed to take the bitterness away—the whole lot of his feelings in fact, yes, it would have been preferable. He wanted to do nothing else, but drown in his sorrow.

Nothing.

"Officer, officer! Please help! We have a serious problem over here."

His ears perked up, eyes snapping up to the source of the request: a short, too well-dressed woman to simply be visiting a friend, make-up and jewelry discreet but there, standing right out the door; she had all the clear signals of a distressed person and he knew, he had to help. For a moment, a blissful, brief moment, he'd forgotten he was wearing his ceremonial uniform and was almost confused she addressed him as such but then he recalled. So he had no other choice but to rush to meet her; something terrible could have happened to her friend; boyfriend; fiance, family member, whoever.

Yet, he couldn't help but think there went his plans, once again, down the drain.

Anyhow, in split seconds, he made this assessment and increased his speed to climb the last of the steps on the staircase and reach the far-most apartment on his floor. The moment the woman noticed, a wide smile replaced the previous expression and disappeared inside with a sigh of relief.

It took him four big strides to get inside. But when he did, he found things not to add up: a dimly lit living room greeted him, with pink and blue balloons scattered everywhere, banners and other ornaments, indicative of a party; the biggest red flag though was that as soon as he stepped inside, the music changed and from conventional poppy songs, a very suggestive type blasted...and women came out of nowhere, whistling, cheering and _touching_ him

What. The hell?

There was six of them but only four began fondling him; the one who lured him there as well as another with a cellphone in her hands had stayed out of it, dancing to the music instead. And one of the attacking ones wore a white ribbon that spelled "The lucky bride" in beautiful cursive letters, in English.

So that's what it was.

He didn't care; in fact, so upset that he was before he ever set foot in this place, and so much these women kept putting their hands on him, despite him doing his best to deter them – he kept snatching his hat back from one very intoxicated woman who insisted on grabbing it – by slapping limbs away, he was astounded he hadn't become violent in these ten seconds it took him to register everything. He attributed it all to his excellent training.

"Ladies," he started as calm as he could "keep your hands off me; I am not a stripper."

"Of course you aren't," the bride quipped "you haven't taken anything off yet. Come on, get to it."

"Yeah, get to it, _officer._ "

They all laughed, causing a commotion; the One Responsible as he'd refer to her from now on raised her glass in salute, laughing with her friend.

He tried taking a step back out, but that little posse of bridesmaids had already shut the door behind him. "Stop," he firmly demanded "I am not a stripper—do I look like one?"

"You feel like one," the intoxicated one noted, hands running under his jacket and he could have slapped her in that moment; he contained himself to very absolutely grabbing her hands and turning her around, using that as a way to distance himself from the rest. "Open this door right now and let me go."

"Oooh, he's role-playing, how sexy~!"

The One Responsible seemed to understand something was wrong and came closer, then, squeezing through her friends, who began whistling at her. "Um, what is going—?"

Just then, the bell rang; everyone went still. Then, they heard loud knocking on the door, and a very clear, male voice shouted "open this door immediately; this is the police."

Eyes wider than saucers, the short woman opened the door wide, effectively making room for him to escape to the kitchen, just as the real stripper was revealed: a shorter but visibly more muscular man stood at the threshold, looking all kinds of hot and bothered.

"And you are all under arrest for being too sexy!"

Queue the excited squeals and cheers from the women, they forgot about the real officer completely; then, the man started dancing wildly to the beat already playing and that was it. As far as they were concerned, he could have never even existed. But he had to leave; and currently the road to freedom was blocked by a very enthusiastic stripper and four ecstatic women.

"I am so, so sorry," he heard the One Responsible lament next to him, looking guiltier than anyone he had ever arrested in his entire career, "they only told me they'd be sending someone over in police attire, never specified what type of uniform. I'm really sorry."

She stole glances to the man dancing and, yes, his uniform was believable from far away, but his—his was the real thing. He glared but upon seeing her absolute guilt, he tried not to glare too much; he looked away, shaking his head. "It seems like it was an honest mistake."

"It was, I swear! I am not in the habit of creating situations to sexually assault police officers."

"Detective," he sighed "I'm a detective. It feels weird to hear people keep calling me that."

"Oh; well, um, detective-san, would you like a drink until, err," she looked at the front door where the stripper was dancing with her friends way too intensely, " _that_ goes to a better location?"

"I'm not staying."

"Naturally, plastic cup for you; but you do look haggard..."

Didn't he know it? Alright fine, he wasn't made of stone. "What type of alcohol?"

"I was thinking something in the lines of whiskey."

Something inside him grew warm at the mention of the certain type of alcohol. "That I **will** drink."

Beaming, she forced-sat him into a chair, fixing his hat in passing. He remained watching as the stripper kept dancing...and the women were being a little forward with him. "They do know that touching him in places such as the ass or worse is illegal, right?"

She sighed. "They do; I gave them the full course. And I made sure the person they sent knew if he at any point felt uncomfortable, to come talk to me and I'll remove the nuisance." She presented him the drink and he greedily took first sip.

"You organised this?" She nodded. "Why aren't you participating?"

She shrugged. "The bride wanted it and, well, we'll only get her married once—I hope. Can't say no to her."

"So why didn't she throw it together?"

"The bride? No, ridiculous. The head bridesmaid does, usually, but in this case, it's her sister...the drunk one. The drunk, older sister who has to watch her baby sister get married before her."

"Ah."

"She's quite jealous, but very guilty about it, so she simply told me, I ain't taking care of anything, just make sure my blood turns into alcohol by the time we leave." She shook her head amused while he almost smiled. "while the rest work too much or can't be bothered and it all fell on the shoulders of bridesmaid number five—moi," she gestured with flourish"dependable Tokio to arrange everything."

"Hmm," he noncommittally agreed, but he felt something like pain; it was...a headache? He noticed she must have seen him grimace but played it cool. "When I got married, my bachelor party consisted of too many beers and bad karaoke."

"What!?" When he turned to look at her, the woman had lost nearly all colour of her face. "Oh my god, you're married? I am so, so sorry; I—"

Finally, a genuine, actual smile escaped him, as he waved her away. "Ah, no, not anymore; been divorced for a couple of years now..."

She released a huge sigh. "Thank God..." Ugh, what was she saying? "Sorry about that, you know what I meant; but I almost had a heart attack just now." There was a moment of silence where she watched him take yet another sip; she looked to the door and the stripper was still there. She almost cried. "So, what's with the uniform?"

Ah, she picked up on it, did she? He really hoped she wouldn't—or at least wouldn't mention it.

"Said detective, right? You guys only where uniforms for special occasions."

"This is the ceremonial uniform," he informed, as casual as he could.

"So you had to attend a ceremony; kind of late though. Then again, you could have simply gone out after..."

He nodded. "It was in the morning."

"What was it about?"

Oh no; she said something she shouldn't. She guessed as much when the man drew breath to answer, but never went anywhere with it. He simply did that and then proceeded to stare at his drink for a long time. Ugh, she could do nothing right by him tonight! "You really don't have to tell me," she rushed to assure him, guilt mounting by the second.

"...we buried a good man today." He had no idea why he shared, but he had a feeling she wouldn't judge. "He was a good friend of mine, other than a colleague, too."

She could have slapped herself; why did she always have to know? Thank god he didn't choke on his words, or she would have died. "I am so, so sorry for your loss; and for putting you through all of this after that. Oh god, I'm so sorry, and I hope it never happens again."

"...thank you," he replied, after some deliberation.

He almost told her how this was the third this year, but in the end, his ego refused. Even as a stranger, especially since she was shown to be so understanding so far, she'd feel too bad for him and he couldn't handle that. Besides, hearing it out loud, from his own mouth no doubt, was too much.

"Ah, that's why the whiskey got to you; no one should drink with such a heavy heart. You get too drunk." He only shook his head, a little amused by her effort to make him feel better. "What you need is rest—a good meal, too, but definitely rest."

She looked at the door where they were still dancing; she considered. "Give me a second." In the next second, she was already heading up to the bride. "Why don't we get the person of interest somewhere more comfortable?" She grabbed her friend by the shoulders, while the girls kept cheering and guided her to the couch. Naturally, the stripper followed and so did the rest; bridesmaid number four sniggered, watching it all happen through her camera.

Next minute she was back.

"You're leaving in a second," she promised and went to the cupboards. Pulling out a huge ceramic platter, she started selecting an array of goodies; pizza slices, pigs-in-a-blanket, some fried noodles with a wide arrange of toppings, mini hamburgers with some fries, pasta salad; everything went on there. She grabbed a pink-coloured umbrella then and just as she reached him, threw it in his drink.

"There; now it looks fun, instead of depressing."

He chuckled. "Thanks."

A beaming smile greeted him and then she tapped his shoulder twice to signal they were leaving. He actually relieved her from her load once she stood and she used the opportunity to grab her cellphone and stick it in her cleavage, as well as relieve him of the drink.

Alright, who puts their cellphone in their cleavage, no matter how big it was? That's just ridiculous.

He still did as she asked and once they were outside – none noticed their absence or at least indicated so – he showed her to his door. He took his keys out of his pocket, unlocked and not only did she follow him inside, but took off her shoes and then headed straight for the kitchen, once she oriented herself. Kitchen on the left, living room sprawling right in front of her as soon as she entered. Easy.

When he watched her pry the platter out of his hands and head for his own cupboards, he had to finally ask her "what are you doing?"

"I'm putting these in different plates; Momo-chan will want her platter back. And you," she put the dishes down and actually pushed him down into a chair "need to sit back and relax. I'll be bringing you the food in three seconds...name?"

"Saitou Hajime."

He was in no mood to argue with Tokio, whoever she was; all he knew or cared about was how the One Responsible needed to make it up to him about the previous fiasco and if that was the way she chose, so be it. She was being tolerable and accommodating after all, despite her authoritative stance, why **should** he argue? Let this young, attractive woman coddle him.

"Here it is! Bon appetit. And go easy on the whiskey, alright? You've nearly finished it."

"Wait," he called out to her just as he saw she was heading for the exit; it wasn't like him, but he really didn't want to be alone "there's a cabinet next to the armchair, see it?" She nodded, heading there. "Bring me a bottle of something that's below half full."

She gave him a reprimanding look, feet halting. "What did you not get from the words that left my mouth literally seconds ago?"

"I'll go easy on this drink," he raised the pink-umbrella plastic cup "but not all of them."

"You've had one drink and it's still one too many! Don't have more..."

"Look, I'll have it anyway; they question is will you be bringing it to me, or not?"

"No!"

She said it with such drive and ferocity, he leaned back a little; then she stalked to her peep-toe pumps with a vengeance and slammed the door—...no she didn't. Only air was blown back, that characteristic bang! never came. He tried to focus through his headache and see what had happened, only to see the woman stand there, door in hand, facing the outside, obviously undecided. She kept tapping her foot furiously for the next ten seconds, until she finally turned back to face him, anger gone, defeat replacing it.

"Yes; but I can't let you drink alone, it'd be irresponsible. I'm staying for a while."

That, he did not expect to hear. Nor did he actually believe she'd do it, although he did watch her carefully remove her shoes again and then go for that cabinet. Before he fully realised, headache already raging, she was dragging a chair next to him, his favourite half-finished bottle of scotch on the table with two glassed accompanying it.

"...did they give you any leave?"

"I'm going back on Monday."

Five days, that was impressive. Shit, he must have been a very good friend; she now felt a little guilty again. "Then you can afford to get shit-faced. How come you didn't go drinking with the rest of your friends?"

"We decided to split so the married ones can go back to their wives in a sightly manner."

"Laudable decision." She poured for the both of them, a very small amount. "What was his name?"

"Toudou Heisuke."

"To Toudou Heisuke; may his sacrifice be for a good cause and the ones left behind strong."

His wife; his daughter; his father, still in shock; his brother, crying louder than anyone. The guys. Although she never said bottoms up, once they clang their glasses, they both finished the entire drink.

"He too was incredibly strong. But no one can survive that."

 _Except you, tough guy,_ he heard in his mind's ear Toudou's voice joke, and then his signature boastful laugh; for a moment he almost believed the apparition his brain cooked up and he actually looked at her right, expecting to see him there. But he wasn't. Of course he wasn't. Nothing but blank space.

"I won't ask you anything about him, if you don't want me to – "Please don't," he interjected almost desperate – "but we gotta pass the time somehow. You ask me things instead."

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"Hell if I know." They both laughed self-deprecatingly. "Maybe I wish when I was in your position, someone would do the same for me." She shrugged, taking a sip from the new batch she poured for both, and he mimicked her. "Besides, I'm the mom friend. You tugged on my heartstrings. Anyway, how's the food?"

He studied her face for a long time; then, he unceremoniously grabbed a slice of pizza and ate it in two huge bites. "Delicious," he deliberated and she had to laugh. At least she got him eating.

After that, it was all a matter of how well they got along. She naturally shouldered the burden of making small-talk or any sort of conversation and, turns out, they had many things in common.

"I'm not like that," he admitted after a particularly uncouth reminder of his marital status "she said she wanted out; I asked her what's the problem and she said _everything_. So, I showed her the door."

"No regrets?"

"I'm happier now than when I was with her."

"Oof, harsh."

"Some people you click with, some you don't. I'd rather I have five failed marriages to get to the right one, rather than stay miserable with the first."

"Amen to that." she clang her glass to his "everyone's calling me crazy when I broke things off with my fiance because _aw, he's so successful and rich and good looking_ but what am I supposed to do with that if he doesn't love me? Bastard cheated on me _twice_ so I ended it! And no, I didn't forgive him; I found out about both at the same time."

He clicked his tongue. "I don't get that."

"What? Cheating?" He nodded. "What's there not to get? He's a scumbag—"

"No, not him; anyone cheating..."

"It usually happens when you're a greedy, deceitful bastard. If you're in a monogamous relationship and still choose to step out then you either aren't in love or you are a horrible, terrible human being. At least, as far as normal relationships are concerned coz if you add abuse to the mix..."

"No, I referred to regular relationships." A pause. "Why d'he do it?"

She snorted. "Apparently, he couldn't go for long periods of time without sex, for whatever reason. I used to make long business trips," she hastily explained "so I kindly told him to fuck off and never speak to me again."

"Well said."

Drink and food; sip and bite. It'd been a very long time they'd been talking about pretty much everything other than what happened, but he finally cracked under the pressure. He started by mentioning how whiskey was the drink they preferred when altogether, off duty, and ended up mumbling about how unfair it was that a child would grow up without her father; why was it that the good ones died first? Why did it have to be him?

She could only pat his back or shoulder and listen to his still not too emotional complains – while distantly wondering just how proud and restrained this man was – even after all that drink and grief. No shouting or crying...just pain. Pain, anger and resignation.

At some point, she had had too much to drink herself; just as he was saying something about how unfair life was for no real reason and all the scars in the world would've been preferable to that, she stood from her chair and crushed into him. She attempted a hug, to squeeze the sorrow away, but she was fairly certain, all she did was hang off of him. Her sentiments must've reached him regardless though, because he steadied her properly but did not remove her from his lap. So, she rubbed his back or caressed his hair, as he buried his face at the crook of her neck.

She could not remember how long she'd been there, only that her phone had rang a couple of times—maybe ten. She really could not recall; she only knew she had to remove herself from his lap and general closeness when another kind of sensation ran up and down her spine, just by his breath on her exposed skin.

Then, the phone rang for the umpteenth time and its timing couldn't be more perfect. "I should be going," she almost whispered and tried to untangle herself "the girls are looking for me...don't wanna worry them."

"Yeah, you should." His mouth said one thing, his hands another. "Left them alone for a long time."

"Well, they can handle my absence...I think. I don't know, can they? Can you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know." He hadn't realised he said that out loud until he felt her go completely still, gaze down on him, astounded. _Shut up, Hajime_ , he mentally ordered, but it didn't seem to work. "I mean, it's just one of me...and five of them."

What was it with his mouth today? _Stop moving_. He was already spilling his guts, no need for this, too. His hands needed to stop moving, too. Ugh, he started to believe it was her perfume's fault; it was all he could smell, it drove him crazy. "And I really don't want to be alone. I can't." _stop. Talking_. "I don't want you to go."

 _Stay_ , his eyes pleaded, but his words were spent on the subject; all he could do was hold on to her desperately, longingly. Her presence soothed him; her skin was soft, it made him want to touch her. And her scent was so intoxicating...! It'd been such a long time he felt so close to another person, it was cruel.

She bit her lip. Good god, she was very drunk...but that feeling of lightheadedness did not stem from the alcohol, no; it was unmistakably a direct result from his ministrations and...it'd been such a long time...

"I can't stay...but I don't want to leave either."

"Then stay a little longer." He dared move his hands from her middle, to her sides. "Just a little longer." She was so supple, he couldn't help but want to touch more of her; like her thighs; her shoulders; her naked thighs. He felt her shiver then and despite everything, or maybe because of it, something stirred within him after a very, very long time. "A minute or two..."

Desire. That's what it was.

"Well, I can spare a minute or two...or more."

"Perfect."

He had had to be doing it on purpose, but he never spoke without his lips grazing the tender part of her neck, tortuously, relentlessly teasing: her senses, as well as her good sense that right about now was ready to burn, with the last of her inhibitions. Coupled with his deliberate movements and how everywhere he touched, another type of fire blazed across her skin, she couldn't help herself, really. The thinking part of her brain shut down and before she knew it, her lips met his. It was short and intense, the reconnaissance kiss, testing out waters and limits. She dared open her eyes a crack and noticed an involuntarily smirk on his lips.

"Maybe longer than two minutes," he muttered in the end and he felt her smile in their kiss.

"It'd better," she demanded before completely giving in, as she allowed this, practically, stranger to touch, fondle and kiss all sorts of places.

.

He couldn't remember when was the last time he had such a good night's sleep; when he opened his eyes, slowly peeking at the sun, he did so effortlessly, no gravity pulling down on his eyelids. His back hurt, per usual and his knee gave him a sudden squeeze – that's what he got for not going to all of the sessions – but he felt so well-rested, he was refreshed! His bedding was too soft though, his pillow even softer, he didn't want to move...that is, until he realised his pillow was underneath his head and for some reason his hand had started going numb.

That compelled him to open his eyes properly. What he saw, he least expected: a naked woman lying on her side his one hand underneath her head, the other grabbing her waist. It was summer, yes, but she must have gotten cold at some point because she had used his shirt as a cover for the small of her back and some of her thighs. Still, he could see the most of her, soundly sleeping next to him, breathing steady. He stared for a long moment. This was Tokio; bridesmaid number four, Momo-chan as she had called her was his neighbour and her friend who hosted the bachelor party. Right.

Slowly, last night's events came back and an involuntary smirk came to his lips. And then, shame; so much shame. He really wanted his hand back that moment, to hide his face in it, but he feared he'd wake her if he did. And now he needed to take a leak. Perfect. Begrudgingly, and a little disappointed, he removed himself from the bed as carefully as possible. Although, he admitted, he did not regret his actions, he did feel like an asshole. As if he took advantage of her good will. Oh well; it would all come down to how she reacted once she woke, there was nothing else he could do about it, which, judging by her stirring when he moved, was going to be soon enough.

She heard footsteps; slowly, her eyes opened...to a bedroom that was decidedly not hers, or Momo-chan's. She became confused. So, she looked around and that's when she noticed the clearly man's shirt draped around her middle and thighs—where it always hurt if she remained exposed. Huh. So that happened. It wasn't a fever dream.

Shit.

She had never, ever, ever done this before; ever. It wasn't like her. What was she supposed to do now? Had she overstayed her welcome? Was she in the way? Damn, as it all came back to her, she felt like she took advantage of the guy—he shared his problems with her and she jumped into bed with him like that, as if she was only looking for an excuse to have sex. She wanted to kill herself out of sheer shame...!

Then she heard a toilet flush and water running; she eavesdropped. A door opened and more footsteps were heard, coming her way by the second; any moment now...and there he was, standing under the threshold.

"Hey," he saluted and much like hers was going to be, his voice was hoarse.

"Good morning." She had no idea why, but she was compelled to smile to him; then her middle ached and she had to stretch to take the pain away. "This is what I get for sleeping with the window open."

Chuckling, he finally walked in. he purposefully hadn't, allowing her to set the tone of their interaction. "Sorry, that's my fault. I only close them during the winter."

"Ridiculous; you and my brother both belong in the madhouse." She tried to stare, but as sleepy as she was, it came off as cute rather than lofty. "Or migrate to colder climates." She snorted then. "Or not; you'll ruin the equilibrium. Japan has gotten used to you. Or at least, Honsu."

"Idiot." He smacked her with his trousers, as he retrieved them. "When's the wedding? I'm not making you late, am I?"

She shook with silent laughter. "Not at all; wedding's tomorrow. What bride would get married after a night of abuses? No, no, this is spa day; I arranged for all of us to get a spa treatment...separately."

"Smart."

"Naturally; I thought of it."

She was surprisingly confident and, should he say, a little boastful; he liked that. Just as he was about to ask her how she drinks her coffee, the bell rang. Looking at his wristwatch, he was shocked to find it read 10:46. he over-overslept—he hadn't woken up after nine for at least ten years. What was her skin made of, xanax?

"That's probably Momo-chan," Tokio realised "I never told them where I was going. Can you get the door until I...?"

Nodding, he did as he was told; he noticed how her clothes were all in a neat pile on the floor, but he could clearly remember that's not how they were removed. She must have gotten up sometime during the night and done it; how curious. How the shirt ended up on her waist, too. So, he grabbed the shirt from under her – he did enjoy her little yelp, as well as the pillow she threw him in return – pulled it over his shoulders and buttoned only half of it as he went to the door. But when he opened it, he saw quite the different sight: instead of a hangover Momo-chan, four very familiar men stood at the door, concern written all over their faces.

God fucking damn it; he forgot they were supposed to meet this morning.

"Where the hell have you been!?" the tallest of the group, still not as tall as him, demanded.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" the shortest one continued, flabbergasted.

"We called your landline and cell a thousand times," the only one with glasses informed, slightly calmer than the rest.

"When? And good morning, I guess."

"Two hours ago," the youngest, barely twenty seven, answered.

"Oh man, I slept through it all...sorry. I'll go get ready and be right back." Just then, he grabbed the first person to talk by the collar of his shirt and stopped him from going deeper into the house. "Harada, you all wait here. Close the door, but don't come in any further."

And he turned his back. Miffed, Harada was about to protest or follow him, but the shortest one, with the sharpest eyes and more devious expression, elbowed him and once he had his attention, he nodded to something on the floor. Everyone's eyes followed.

"Oh," the bespectacled man smirked and his eyebrows rose high above his almond eyes "he has company."

The pair of white peep-toe pumps stood neatly next to Saitou's Oxfords, betraying the presence of another; a woman. Everyone looked between themselves, half-smirks and half-amazement at the turn of events...the whispering began in an instant.

"I see you're already dressed," he remarked when he came back, after he closed the door behind him. He started undressing. "But it wasn't Momo, it was my colleagues." Then he opened his closet to find a new set of clothes.

"So I heard," she informed cheerfully and walked next to him. Wordlessly, she picked out a shirt. "That would go nicely with blue trousers. And I didn't hear any phones ringing either; must have slept too well. But what nice friends; they worried and came to check on you."

"Yeah," he admitted while he dressed himself as she suggested. "But to think we slept through so many calls..."

"Well, we did go to bed pretty late—I mean, to sleep, not..."

"I got it," he murmured, a modest grin on his face. "You ready?"

"Point me to the direction of your bathroom and I'll be good to go."

"The door on your immediate left. And, Tokio," he stopped her from walking out "I'm sorry you have to leave like this."

"That's alright," she said in a cute way "so long as you buy me something to drink."

A wink and she was out the room. He, too finished getting dressed as fast as he could and went to his hall. He did not wait for her to emerge though, no; he knew his friends. They had to be scared into submission. So, he headed straight to them, glaring, trying very, very hard to make those shit-eating grins disappear from their faces.

"Not a single inappropriate comment out of you," he made clear, voice as low and threatening as possible, but they all pretended they had no idea what he was talking about.

Two minutes later, there Tokio was, face washed clean of all make-up; in the morning light, she looked different: her natural appearance made her look younger, as well as kind of cute, even if her clothes were very form fitting, curves pronounced in all the "right" ways. But, this kind of form fitting skirt, from her waist to her knees in black leather, as well as a very feeble white crop-top that showcased most of her cleavage in fine silk screamed "walk of shame".

"Good morning gentlemen," she greeted everyone with a wide smile, as she grabbed her cellphone and parted them, completely unbothered, to wear her shoes.

"Guys, this is Tokio," he dutifully introduced them, feeling their eagerness to know "Tokio, this is—"

"Okita Souji; good morning. I'm Saitou's partner, as well as, quite obviously, the charismatic of the group. So very pleased to meet you, Tokio-chan."

She laughed at his quip, but when he actually kissed her hand instead of shaking it, she looked disbelieving as well as amused.

"I'm Harada Sanosuke," the second tallest man of the room introduced himself, natural red-hair stealing her gaze "I'm half-Irish."

"Nagakura Shinpachi, hello," the bespectacled man shook her hand, curls dancing with him "a friend and a colleague."

"As we all are, in fact," the last one remarked. "I'm Shigure Tomoda."

"Pleased to meet all of you." She bowed her head in recognition, never failing to notice the smiles and the inevitable teasing that was going to follow, hopefully once she left. "But this is also the time to say goodbye—"

"No!" and other variations of the word or meaning escaped the four of them and she had to stare at the refusal.

"Where are you going?" Hajime asked her wearily.

"Home," she replied.

"We'll take you," two people said at the same time: Hajime, in his usual monotone and Okita, almost desperate not to see her go.

"Oh, I'll just take a cub, no need to inconvenience you."

"No, no, we insist," Harada interjected "we drove here with Tomoda and Hajime has a car, too so we're all good."

"No, it's fine; I don't want to take you out of your way. I live on the other side of town."

"We are going for a coffee, not a case," Nagakura countered "we'll just choose a place closer there."

"And I do owe you a coffee," Hajime gave the final blow, so she could only smile, defeated to the lot of them.

"As you wish; but no coffee," she shivered. "I hate coffee."

"Tea?" Okita offered; she nodded excited.

"A beverage, whatever," Hajime dismissed them "let's just go."

By the time they were exiting the building, Tokio had a fair understanding of the dynamics of their friendship, as well as their character, either but what they said, they did, or they didn't; she found them enjoyable. Texting Momo-chan about her whereabouts and a promise to explain everything in an hour, they reached the cars.

"I'm going with Saitou," Harada claimed his spot and all but Tomoda groaned or made a similar declaration.

"Okita's the only one riding with me, as always; the rest of you go the same way you came."

"Not fair," they complained, but Okita simply gloated.

"All of you, such children," Tokio had to comment, but despite the drawn breaths of faux-offense, there was no one who took her seriously, simply because they could tell she did not mean it as an insult. Mighty pleased with himself, Saitou pressed the button to unlock his car and Tokio was the first one to the black Honda. "There's a great shop two blocks from here," she informed "but until then, I'll be taking a nap."

She opened the left door and proceeded to kick of her shoes, lying on both backseats of the car. Just as the door shut behind her, Okita went really close and jabbed him at the gut! "Who the hell is Tokio and when d'you meet her?" he hissed, voice as low as possible. "How long have you been together and how the hell did I miss it?"

"Relax guys," he tried to calm down the crowd, because they actually circled him, equally perplexed as his partner who was about to attack him "I'll explain everything once we are alone."

They allowed him this grace period; all knew it'd be unsightly to make a scene in front of the woman, so they split in two groups, got in their cars and drove away, with Hajime in the lead. Who, true to his word, bought her her tea from the shop she had suggested. Okita, and secretly Hajime, too, watched her reaction to the offering: the moment they presented the tea to her – hot, even if it was summer – she sat up and thanked him. Once it was in her possession, both hands wrapped around it, while her toes curled with happiness. And once the first sip was taken, her eyes closed, savouring the bittersweet taste. A small sigh of satisfaction followed.

Okita looked at Saitou, for a long time, until he had his attention at a red light. Making sure Tokio was distracted with her liquid, he mouthed "she's adorable," to his serious friend. He had to agree, but not out loud; he simply shook his head at the man's assessment but yes, she was really adorable.

.

" _This_ is where you live?" Okita asked, mouth slightly agape as they pulled up in front of the apartment complex Tokio guided them to. The only reason Hajime didn't say something smart about him being so ungracious was because he too was kind of shocked.

She non-verbally agreed, slightly annoyed; this was one of the reasons she didn't want to bring them here. "Top floor, all to myself; great spaces. Even better view."

They were in one of the finest neighbourhoods in the entire city of Kyoto, where the floors reached to ten floors high; so, she lived on the tenth floor. Okita's eyes darted to her. "Can I make a personal question?"

"Sure."

"Are you rich?"

"Yes; eh, I'm well off. Dad's rich."

"Oh," the two men exchanged looks "that's nice."

"Thanks!" She beamed at them and then put on her shoes; after retrieving the empty cup as well, she opened the door wide. So tight this skirt was, she could only come out two legs at a time, but before either man had the chance to go and help her, she had managed to exit all on her own. Once she did, she stood next to the driver's window, open as it was, and looked inside. It hurt her back to bend like that, but she wanted to say goodbye.

"It was very nice meeting you Okita-san; you guys have fun on your day out." She waved at him.

"Right back at you! I hope I see you again!"

She smiled in a knowing way and she did not miss how Saitou's eyes darted to him. "Thank you for the tea, Hajime."

"Don't mention it."

"And the ride home, saved me a lot of time." After looking at him for some seconds, she decided he was not going to resist, so she unabashedly reached into the car, grabbed his face by the left cheek and planted a swift kiss on the right. "Take better care of yourself," she whispered, but how could she know Okita had the ears of a bat. She straightened then, and took a step back. "Have a nice day!" She waved to the car next to them, too and they honked in reply, but Okita was too distracted to notice; he could only look at Hajime in utter shock and accusation at her forward gesture and bold statement. After all, if she knew him well enough to say that...

"You sneaky bastard," he began "how long have you been dating her behind my back?"

"Like I said," Saitou repeated, tired "I'll explain later."

"You owe too many explanations. Don't!" Okita cut him off as he rolled his eyes "you know I'm right. So drive; the sooner we get to whatever place we find here, the better."

.

.

"You mean to tell me she's naturally that comfortable with you?" Okita asked, incredulous.

He shrugged; he had told them everything that had happened that day—not said. That, he had abridged for the sake of his ego. Still, he was deemed honest by his partner, who just snorted with laughter. "Alright, go you! When are you seeing her again?"

"I don't know; I don't think I'll be seeing her again."

"What?" Nagakura exclaimed scandalised.

" _Why_ is what I want to know," Okita cried and almost shook him. "We finally found someone to put up with you and you'll just brush her aside?"

"Do you not like her, Saitou-san?" Tomoda sincerely wondered.

"That's not it."

"You're damn right it isn't; d'you see that ass? Damn work of art."

"Harada, what the hell?" Nagakura tried to stop him.  
"Married men should stay quiet," Harada snapped back.

"She's a person, Sano," Tomoda protested "and I think we all noticed how pleasing her figure was, posterior included, but certainly not exclusively eye-catching."

"See? That's how you say nice rack without using the words nice rack."

They couldn't help themselves; both Nagakura and Saitou's hand flew and collided with the back of Okita's head. "Ouch; sorry for being honest, jeez...anyway, why don't you want to go out with her?"

He rolled his eyes; he was being very insistent today. Truth be told, he had no preference, one way or another. Alright, that was a lie; maybe he did want to see her again. But he was pretty certain she didn't. He saw where he lived; he'd noticed her friends' clothes, as well as hers. He was a fling; a story to tell at parties. Not because she was a snob, but why would a person like her date someone like him? It made no sense. But how could he voice that without everyone giving him the same old drab speech of how he was just fine for anyone and blah blah blah; some people go well together, some don't. He really thought the two of them didn't...despite evidence to the contrary. It was best to ignore it.

"Saitou, I beg you to reconsider," Harada made a pitch "you found a woman to sleep with you; why throw that away?"

Okita scoffed. "Harada, are you stupid? Look at him. He's tall, dark and built; sleeping with him is never the issue...staying after he opens his mouth is."

"Are you secretly a ladies man, Saitou?" Harada elbowed him.

"Pfff, as if; he may be the most traditional man of our generation in the entirety of our good nation. No, he isn't." As his partner, Okita was the expert, no exaggeration. He knew everything about him and vice versa. "Go for it, man."

"I don't even have her number, Okita."

"So what? You know where she lives!"

"Um, that would be a little creepy, Okita-san," Tomoda reminded. "Do you have her email?"

"Why would he have her email," Nagakura said as if speaking to a slow person.

"Her full name?"

"Yes, but so what?"

"Don't sidetrack this conversation Tomoda," Okita put an end to this "are you seeing her again or not an why. That's the point."

"There's no reason; I'm not looking for someone. This just happened."

"You're never looking," Okita barked "ever since Yaso left you, you've been on your own and it ain't healthy."

Oooh, mentioning the ex, a dirty move. His ire became obvious and decided to grace him with an equally dirty tactic. "Solve your own problems first, and then come preach to me about women."

"Saitou," Okita demanded attention "life's short; we established that this year all too well. Don't be afraid to take a chance."

Although everyone left the subject alone, that little sentence rang a little too true in Saitou's ears. Life was indeed too short. You never knew what could happen—or what could be taken away, in a blink of an eye. And yet, he could not shake it off even after he went home, took off his clothes and hang them up. Not when he reviewed some of his finished cases and then sat in the silence of his living room, to relax. Maybe the shortie was on to something. Who knew.

"Good morning, Hajime-san."

"Hey."

When he made all those grand declarations yesterday, he hadn't accounted for one thing: she knew where he lived, too and first. And currently, she was standing in front of his door, dressed in a very elegant, very expensive gown that, truth be told, complimented her figure a little too well. The colour, a bold indigo, went well with her skin tone; make-up and hair were definitely done by a professional. Earrings hanged low, a matching colour with the dress and the necklace.

"Is it time for the wedding?"

"Almost, yes; I came here to pick up Momo-chan! I drive, you see; I just didn't take a car the day before yesterday because I knew I was going to drink."

"As you should."

"Right, you must be wondering why I'm here," she said after a small silence that wasn't awkward but not comfortable either. "Momo-chan sent me to take her platter back!"

"Ah, right." He said nothing else, fearing his disappointment would show through, and just fetched it for her. "Why didn't she come yesterday?"

"She's still too ashamed for not recognising you, as well as the whole incident; but, since apparently she thinks I have no shame, she sent me to get it." They both smiled at that; it was comments like that that he didn't know what to make of her, or if he wanted to see her again or not. "Well, I'll be going now; oh, you washed it, amazing. Thank you, Hajime-san."

"You look very beautiful; have fun."

"Thank you, Hajime." She could tell he paid her a real compliment by the pitch of his voice, as well as how he stared at her appreciatively for a long time. The feeling of something left unsaid washed over both of them then but none would say anything. And yet, Tokio wasn't the type to be at a loss for words, so she asked "did you have fun with your friends?"

"It was okay."

"They didn't grill you too much, did they?"

"Of course they did," he replied honestly, amused "but I don't take easily."

She laughed at that and, seeing the end of the conversation approaching, she decided to quit while she was still ahead. "Have a nice day; and...if you ever feel like talking, or just feel like getting out of your head, give me a call, okay? If you google my name and put photo-studio next to it, my contact info will pop up."

"Are you a photographer?"

"A famous one, too—how d'you think I can afford my apartment?"

"So be it," he kindly accepted, or pretended to "I'll keep it in mind."

"Great; so, um, bye bye; and stay happy."

He nodded back instead of speaking but he really hated himself that moment. To think she was so openly telling him she's available and he simply threw it back on her face. And yet, the moment he opened the door, nothing but the most intimate thoughts and memories came back. Damn it all, he wasn't going to go through this! What's the point of pursuing a relationship simply because the other person took pity on you? Shaking his head, cursing his stubbornness, he went back to his training regime.

Push ups it was.

.

Tokio sighed. It'd been a week. Still, no call or text from him, nothing. To be brutally honest, she hadn't expected him to call; she had hoped but she knew it wasn't the same. Looking at her cell, on the kitchen table, she pouted. One more wipe and her counter would be spotless. She liked doing the dishes—one of the reasons she never bought a dishwasher. After all, it was just her in this big house, and the occasional guest, for instance, today was her brother who had relentlessly teased her about the detective. Ugh, how frustrating; maybe she'd later call Momo-chan and arrange a lunch with her, they hadn't seen each other since the wedding. Drying her hands on her shorts, even if the towel was within her reach, she decided to move to the living room and maybe watch...

The thought died as the bell rang. She clicked her tongue; this would mark the third time her brother came to retrieve something he had forgotten—keys, wallet and now what? Lighter? He didn't even smoke! Did that man ever remember anything? A little annoyed, it was twelve thirty after all, she pulled the door open, ready for a fight.

Her eyes widened a fraction as her brows shot high up in her fringe; instead of her brother's familiar figure, a taller, lankier one stood, a little hunched. She swallowed the sudden lump and managed a breathless "hello."

"Hey."

She watched his expression; it looked relaxed, but the rest of his body was stiff. He stood a little better once she'd spoken, but his posture betrayed anxiety. There was a small buzzing in her ears but she still stepped to the side, allowing him entrance. "Please, come inside," she verified her actions "but, um, it's just that I wasn't expecting you, sorry for the mess."

She went into overdrive. Good lord, she was wearing house shorts and a thousand-year-old tank top! Why couldn't this be the day she decided to wear a sexy see-through nightdress? Because her brother was there not twenty minutes ago, right. Damn it! And all of these clothes on the couches, and the chips her brother spilled on the floor, all were there.

"Am I bothering? Do you have company?"

"I did; brother stopped by to say hello, hadn't seen me for a while, but he's such an animal, always making a mess."

Only then did he take off his shoes and ventured deeper. There was a small hall, where the guests left their shoes, that separated the entire house from the entrance with thin bamboo beams; then, it was a huge living room in front of him, while a rice paper wall on the left, too thin to serve as an actual wall, but good enough to create the illusion of a room, marked the kitchen. On his right, a bigger hall extended, that led to bedrooms and such, he guessed. He kept her in his peripheral as she kept complaining to herself for the perceived mess—he personally didn't care. As far as he was concerned, his house looked worse on its clean days. Without making himself heard, he found and went to the bathroom, threw some water on his face and cleaned his hands. Then rubbed some water on his neck, too because a) it was hot and b) he was nervous

"So, I can't just, ugh...give me a second; I'll go change."

"That's okay." He appeared right in front of her, just as she turned around from surveying her apartment's general state, after her efforts. "It's my fault for not calling. But you see, I'm not really big on calling."

His proximity alarmed her for a second, but she got used to it fast.

"I can tell you are a man of—"

His lips crushed on hers, rendering her speechless; he didn't deepen the kiss, but put both his hands around her waist and only then did he pull back. "Action?" he finished for her, arrogant.

"Yeah," she lamely responded, lips tingling, screaming for more contact. Her body betrayed her intentions when she involuntarily brought her face closer to his, her own hands coming around his neck.

"Yeah."

Those were the last words spoken between them. It only took a second to lift her up—or her to wrap her legs around his waist firmly. He led her through the house to where he'd guessed the general direction of the bedroom was, knocking furniture on the way, littering the floor with inconsequential items, and her neck with kisses and nibbles; moans and sighs accompanied them there and stayed until the very end.

It was wild, in her mind. She had never had such a relationship with anyone before, but this was so instinctive, so natural, she didn't care decent or not. Her body told her yes; screamed out in pleasure, curled around him; it was thrilling. And, from the looks of it, he needed this more than her. What was there to regret?

The only problem was the heat. Despite now being around two, sweat ran down both people's faces, backs and limbs in rivers; her sheets needed changing but, ugh, it was late. Exactly because it was hot, too, the moment they separated, panting, she stayed as far away from him as possible, without exceeding the confines of the bed. Once their breathing settled and the idle wind cooled them down enough, she turned to look at him. He was almost asleep, but his face still reflected something painful.

"How have you been, Hajime?"

"I manage."

"Mmmm."

She hummed instead of contradicting him outright and crawled closer. She begged to differ for plenty of reasons, the most obvious one being, well, the sex. It was different from last time. Though under no circumstances, could she have called him submissive, last time he was...more accommodating. Tonight, he'd been way too domineering. "How's your back?" She'd noticed he had a fresh scar there—not new, but as far as scars went, it was still trying to settle.

"Hurts less actually."

"And your knee?" He gestured so-so with his hand and then let it fall, exhausted. She chuckled. "How about this?" She jabbed another developing scar, maybe a healing wound, she wasn't sure, on his shoulder; only after she had seen him naked had she realised what he'd meant about the scars. He was riddled with them. But when an ouch left his lips before he could swallow it, she shook her head. "My mum used to say physical pain has a way of intensifying, especially in proud people, when they're going through tough times."

"You mum talks too much," he teased.

"Ah...that sounds like something dad used to say." His chuckle came naturally and she felt accomplished. "Do you have to leave soon?"

"Not before sunrise."

"Perfect." She crawled on top of his chest and hugged him; she did that for a long time. "Is it any better?"

"What, the knee and the...?" She nodded; he almost laughed at how ridiculous her question sounded, but he realised with a start that "yes," they did.

"See? Mum knows best." She kissed whatever was closest to her and flung herself on the other side of the bed. Damn heat, it was making her drenched. "It's too hot," she complained ten seconds later.

"It'll cool down in a while," he murmured, drifting off "try to sleep."

Next morning, she woke up to the sound of an alarm clock that wasn't hers; just as she pawed around, trying to turn it off, she noticed she couldn't move easily: both his hands had come around her waist, hugging her close, while his breathed warmed her neck. Huh; so that's why she was covered in sweat. Still, she had to turn off that blasted thing before she threw it against a wall; with some struggle, she was free of his hands; whence she found the demonic device, she turned it off with relish and almost threw it on the pillow, just for vengeance.

But she was an responsible, adult person and she didn't.

Instead, she focused on trying to waking up Hajime. Which wasn't so difficult because once she turned back to face him, he was already moving. When she made that observation, he mumbled something in the lines "it's your fault" and she had to suppress a laugh.

"It's time for you to go; your alarm clock says six thirty."

That did the trick; his eyes opened wide and he rolled on his back. "Right, work." He sat up, cracking his neck. "Got any coffee?"

"Yes, actually; both brother and sister are big fans. What blend do you want?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you have that's the strongest; I take it black."

"As you wish." She watched him rise, and considered. "If you have some time, I can make a proper breakfast."

Oh God; a proper breakfast. He had forgotten what that was like. "...that'd be great, actually; thanks."

The way she beamed up at him, instead of speaking, was starting to become his favourite thing about her. Shaking his head amused, he went through his usual morning routine – minus the shower he'd take at work, where he kept the spare change of clothes, as well as the toothbrush he had to substitute for his pointer – while he heard her pull out plates and pots. Huh.

This was...bad. There this woman was, not only going along with his fancies, she also treated him genuinely kindly, when she certainly didn't have to. Oh man, what sort of an idea could she have about him though? The asshole who was only looking for a hookup probably and he really hated himself to even give the right to anyone, how much more himself, to think that. But it wasn't like that, not in his head. _Just go eat your breakfast; one step at a time,_ he tried to encourage himself, threw some more water on his face, and joined her in the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Hajime was out the door. Almost an hour later, he was at work; he hurried to have that shower and change so eight o clock sharp he could report—he hated being late. And yet, despite Okita seeing him change there, he asked nothing. As a result, he couldn't bring himself to mention it to him on his own; something about the casual way he treated her, didn't feel right. He just...he needed to put this behind him. For good.

For good didn't last too long. It'd been almost two weeks since then. He hadn't dared called her once, but at the same time, she was all his thoughts went back to, when he had the time to think anything else other than work. After a particularly difficult day at work, the idea of drinking himself to sleep starting looking all too good. Maybe he'd forget the gruesome details, the haunting images; maybe he'd get to sleep without nightmares, just this once. And besides, since that night, he hadn't really had a sip, the one where they both got drunk together. Together huh? She did advise him not to drink alone...he considered. Maybe he'd go over there to drink with her.

Yeah, maybe; just a drink.

An hour later, a brand new bottle of whiskey in a tall, pretty paper bag lay on the seat next to him, as he pulled up out of her apartment complex. He sighed. Should or shouldn't he, after all? Would she take it the wrong way? He really didn't think of her as a booty call, or whatever kids called it these days; he wasn't dating anyone to begin with. He was just...alone. And lonely. And somehow, she took that feeling away for however long she was with him. He put his forehead in his hand; she had no reason not to think of him as an asshole who only remembered her when he was in the mood, but he wasn't like that at all, that was the thing. She just...made him feel that way.

While he was in the process of mentally berating himself, manifesting by banging his head lightly against the steering wheel, he heard a knock on his window. Jolting, her looked up to see **her** , waving at him, big smile on her lips, while speaking on the phone. Ah shit; he could not avoid this now.

He took the keys out of the ignition, brake pulled, and grabbed the bag before he exited.

"No sweetie," he heard her say absolute "none of it is your fault. You know I take care of my own. She'll be a meme before you know it. You don't say anything. Talk to close friends and family and tell them the truth, as less upset as you can; it'll have blown over by tomorrow. For you anyhow; she'll take the most of it. Yes, I started and the girls are following, coming through on their end admirably. Just get some rest; I'll go online again in a couple of hours and text you, alright? Bye dear."

While talking, she had nodded for him to follow her; by the time she hanged up they were already inside the building, in front of the elevator.

"Good evening Hajime, sorry about that. But there was some drama at work today." He never realised how selfish he was until he, just now, had to really think to remember what she did for a living. "Some rich socialite wanted me to shoot her wedding photos but I had a prior engagement, so I declined, but referred a colleague, just as good. He, much like most, wants to do things his way in the creative process, but this bride and her husband went against him every step of the way. Not only did they ruin his concepts, but tried to make their own...and still wouldn't pose as he wanted them."

"So now all of the photos are ruined."

"Effectively...there's a reason the photographer will tell you to stand a certain way; you could be the prettiest, leanest most amazing human being in the world, and the camera will still find a bad angle. She didn't realise."

"I get it; she's taking it out on him."

She nodded, weary. The elevator dinged right that moment and they stepped off. "So, I'm doing damage control; stunt like that could cost you a big part of your clientele."

"Prickly bride..."

"You've no idea." She opened the door and let him in first, as she struggled to take the key out the door. "They always get stuck," she complained but eventually was free. "Oh, is that for me?" she addressed the paper-bag.

He handed it over a little stiffly and she had to fight not to laugh. "I didn't know what you liked other than whiskey, so that's what I got."

"Thank you; I'm more of a vodka kind of person, but this will do just fine—both my siblings indulge in a bit of scotch, it's how I built my tolerance for it. You?"

"I prefer sake." Of course he did. "And whiskey."

"Oooh, sake; I recently got my hands on a very fine bottle. Would you like some?"

How did she do that? She read him so easily. "I'll never say no to good sake."

"Warm?"

"Always," he was quick to assure "I don't care how hot it is outside."

Her smile was crooked, eyebrows wiggling. "Now why did I know that?"

"I'm assuming because you're a good judge of character?" he replied, just as meaningfully.

"Go wash your hands, detective, I'll prepare the snacks."

She boiled water and put the sake inside the large pitcher, to let it reach the right temperature, while she cut some vegetables; it was moments like these she was thankful her dad gave her the habit of always having something extra in her fridge, even if she didn't need it. Ten minutes later, they were sitting on he big sofa, sharing drink.

"So, Okita's your partner; Nagakura-san?"

"Harada's; Tomoda was Toudou's." She found it interesting he talked about them on his own, so she started asking questions; what two cups of sake do to a person, huh. "The six of us, as well as Yamanami and Yuzan where always paired up whenever we needed to form teams of more than two."

"That was on purpose?"

He nodded. "Except Tomoda and Yuzan, we were all in the same class back at the academy; Okita and I studied law together before we went to the academy as well."

"Wow, you go way back..." She sniggered. "No wonder you talk to each other like that."

"He's a pestilence."

Her laughter was boisterous; he had to smile, too. "He does seem the type one would say is infectious."

"Toudou always put him in line, when I didn't want to deal with him; Yamanami just encouraged him."

"Ooooh, who stops him now, if it's just you and the instigator?"

She joked, but there was something melancholic in his expression; she thought it was because he talked of Toudou-san so much, but no; it was something else. Her head tilted in silent question, but didn't press too much. Still, he looked at her on his own, sadness in his eyes.

"Nah," he drunk his third cup in one go "Yamanami is...he and his partner passed away not half a year ago."

Her breath caught. Holy. Fucking. Shit. How many friends did this man bury in one year? "I...am so incredibly sorry." Her hands fell in her lap. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't. It never helps."

She relocated her hand from her lap to his, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it tight, but he didn't even react. Her heart went out to him. He still didn't make it any easier. But she wanted to convey how much she understood, without making him sadder or push his boundaries...what should she do?

"This helps," he said in the end, after she let go and he realised he must have been a dick. _This_ was the bottle of sake he unceremoniously picked up, but just as he was about to pour a new cup for himself, she stopped him. That look she gave him, hurt, sympathetic, yet scolding actually made him put it back down in its bucket of warm water. A second later, she stood and fell on him in a huge, stifling hug. "I'm sorry," she repeated, and this once he felt her good intention all the way to his back, from the pain of her squeeze. "I really am."

"I know." He managed to untangle her, push her back to take a good look at her; how could she be so open all the time? He only talked about these things with her, and only glimpses, and yet, it was exhausting. His hand found her cheek, that fine line of her chin. "I do, I just..."

"It's okay; I get it. Loss does that to you." She put her hand over his. "I don't judge."

She never did, actually. And she never stopped looking at him with those bright, black eyes of hers. His hand was still firmly in her grip and it made him feel vulnerable. And because he had her sit back she was practically straddling him; why was she so soft all the time? It was very sexy. Usually, he had no sex drive, and then she happened. He had no willpower left to stop himself; a pathetic slave to his whims as he was and not caring how or why, he was kissing her again.

She was nearly as surprised this once, so she kissed back, just as fiercely. He didn't remember, if one asked, how he went from kissing her luscious lips to whispering her name as she rocked her thighs against him, but somehow, at the same time, there was nothing else he thought about every time he closed his eyes. Her lips on her neck, his hands on her breasts; her jeans on the floor, next to his shirt; her sweat...

it wasn't an hour ago, when he arrived, that he'd promised himself he'd be a gentleman tonight but there he was, a breathless mess, Tokio resting her forehead on his shoulder.

"I should...start doing...cardio. Damn. It's no...fair," she managed to string together after some moments "you train...all the damn time."

"You're fine."

This was unreal; it'd barely been five minutes! What was wrong with him?

"You'll get used to it."

 _Leave the poor woman alone_ , his sense hissed at him, but he disregarded it. He adhered to that sweet promise of oblivion for these twenty, fifty, whatever minutes they spent together because all he could see was her. He didn't know if it was him or her, but all he could focus when having sex with her was having sex with her. He wasn't like that, usually, his brain ran wild; even before he got married, while or even after his divorce, he thought of more things, that was his character. Tokio made him doubt that and he was thirty two years old. He was never all that physical, too but she seemed to bring plenty of changes with her, as he could not, successfully, keep his hands off of her.

Pushing her on her back, he claimed her lips again, as he secured her feet around his waist; with one strong push, he lifted both of them up. She kept kissing him until he hit a wall and, as punishment, she bit him right on the ear. "Offended" he jostled her; in retaliation, she scratched him a little more than appropriate and he literally threw her on her bed. She let out a small yelp but he was next to her in a second. "Turn around," he demanded in that low, raw tone and she did as she was told. He lifted her on her shins and hugged her close from behind, caressing, teasing as he went from top to bottom and all over again. He was astounded at how well attuned she was to his thoughts. It was all so consuming, so freeing, so intense. It was just sex, but then it wasn't. And there they were, screaming, moaning on all fours until she collapsed and her face hit the pillow. She let him ride it out until he too collapsed next to her on his back.

Chest heaving, limbs intertwining, they stayed like that for a long time. It felt like an eon later she finally sat up, sweat glistening. "Need water; you?" He nodded, almost asleep. "I'll bring some paper-towels, too."

He gave her a thumbs up.

He didn't sleep easily that night, thoughts kept him up. He didn't know what to feel or do. Was he using her? He was pretty sure the answer to that was yes. But she didn't seem to mind. Alright, he was a smart man; this could be her own way of defending herself and emotions. And this definitely boarded on immoral, seeing they had no other relations, but then again, they were both two consenting adults with no attachments, why shouldn't they?

For whatever reason, whatever this thing between them was, it honestly helped him, far more than any of the shit the shrink had suggested. So, he decided, he'd keep doing this until she finally had enough of him and asked him to stop. Then, he'd kindly take his leave, thank her for everything and never bother her again, hoping she hadn't become too essential to him coping. But until then, he'd stay here, breath sweat and limbs mixing together.

He managed to drift off around three in the morning; as always, he overslept and it was the alarm clock that forced him to open his eyes and begrudgingly leave the bed. He honestly had started to believe her perfume had some sort of sedative in it. Looking at her sleeping without a care in the world, he smiled. She deserved better than him, he thought with a small smirk, but too bad she was now stuck with his ass. Feeling better than ten days ago, he kissed her forehead and left.

* * *

 **A/N** : Bet you didn't see that coming, especially from me, eh? Hehehehe, it felt like a nice change of pace. Hope you enjoyed the first part loves, look out for the next one, it's coming soon. Please leave a review on your way out. Love you

Kisses,  
FAI.


	21. The right accidents, Final Part

**A/N** : Came fast, didn't it? The next chapter. Well, only because I have the last days of my leave so I can write. Enjoy it while it still lasts, looool. Thank you for the reviews, the time and the comments dears. You're all amazing. Love you so much.

Now, I know this story could be considered a little dark, but you know, I think people in jobs such as these really go through hard times and seeking help is never shameful; if anything, it should be the norm. There's still stigma surrounding it where I live, though thankfully nothing compared to what it was. No matter, I also think if Saitou lived in this day and age he would definitely have these issues; it's no longer the norm to have people die left and right and death is a much smaller part of our society, not as rampant as it was. Yes, progress!

Anyway, forget about all that; have a fun day, sweeties and hope this helps.

 **Beta'd** by **Error205.** Many thanks to her.

 **Title:** The right accidents.  
 **Genre** : Romance, Angst(kind of)  
 **Alternative Universe** : Modernday, One Night Stand

* * *

Once Hajime came to the conclusion of what he wanted to do, as well as why, his visits frequented. From one week, to two times a week, to, as of now, every other night and that last night he stayed,marked three months plus change. Three entire months of this and for some unfathomable reason, she still humoured him. He still didn't even call before showing up at her doorstep, but that posed no serious problem, other than he made the trip to the other side of town for no reason a couple of times, but who cared. What truly worried him was his slowly, but certainly increasing shame but most of all guilt, for his treatment of her that he always suppressed in the end and left unaddressed.

At the same time, he worried about her getting attached. She was fun, loving and caring; they never had a conversation about their status-quo and she perceived him to be invested. She gave no signs – at least not any that he could pick up on – of that, but since they never had the discussion, it felt like it was up in there; he showed up, they had a good time, he stayed the night. Next morning he was off to work. To him, this was a no-feeling type of thing, but not in the sense he felt nothing for her, but he in so he visited her in order to forget them: feelings, cases, obligations, everything. She was his little slice of heaven, amidst the hellscape his life was.

Basically, he had no idea what they were and he prayed she never brought it up because he'd have nothing to tell her.

Maybe that was why he told no one about her, not a soul. Having detectives for friends didn't make it easy to keep this a secret, but thankfully the only one he actually had to fear of finding out was Okita, because they worked together and the rest he didn't see as much. He had suspected something was different about him, but he could not possibly guess that it was anywhere near this.

Naturally, if something went good for him, it never lasted. He was never that lucky. The first worrying incident took place on a Thursday. Although she could never be sure he'd drop by, but being the smart woman that she was, she'd figured out his preferred days and Thursday was maybe his favourite. So, not only was she always home on Thursday evenings, she had something fun prepared for him: a special wine, a special food, another type of special treat...or, this Thursday, a reality check.

He'd rang the bell, per usual, and waited for her to answer. He hated, actually hated the rest of the people that lived in this building, whenever he met them on the stairs or the elevator, so he had made a point to be more than proper while not in her house...so at least he had that going for him, the perfect poker face, otherwise this would have been far more painful and awkward when the door opened and instead of the short woman, a man stood behind it.

What? He blinked; he hadn't seen double, or a vision. He swallowed. _What?_

"Good evening," the stranger greeted him politely, his voice smoother than he'd have liked any man's around her to be, especially when he wasn't there. "How can I help?"

A shot of electricity went through his body and Hajime felt like he was stuck on the ground. Look at that smile, that courtesy...it rubbed him a very, very wrong way; all he had to offer him in return was a cold smile that lasted barely a second and even that was too much. "Right back at you."

He proceeded to take a closer look at the man, just then, mind running a mile per second. Saitou was taller than him and more imposing...but that's where the comparison stopped being in his favour. This man was handsome and his posture was very good; the way he stood at the door screamed ownership. He was actually older than him, too, which was a little jarring—maybe thirty five, thirty seven; Tokio was only thirty, he remembered that much.

"Hello!"

Just as the standoff was coming to a peak, Tokio appeared in the background, running to the door from her bedroom. Her bedroom? Suspicious. His eyes immediately scanned the man in front of him, but he deemed all to be in order: tie loose around his neck but still tied, a couple of buttons undone on his shirt's collar and black slacks. No man ever, who has had sex does he put the tie on again after; so whatever reason she had to be there, it was not because they were intimate.

That calmed him down for a second, until he realised, another second later, this man didn't have to be intimate with her tonight for them to have such a relationship and he almost growled at her. "Hi Hajime, how are you?" She then proceeded to reprimand her guest huffily. "What do I always tell you? It's the host who opens the door for guests, not other guests, even if I was momentarily busy." She squeezed between the stranger and the wood, to finally get a proper look at Saitou. "I'm sorry about him," and her look told him he was not even supposed to be there right now and she was sorry for that as well "please, come inside."

Assessing her, he found her clothes were no different than usual, so he could not guess why she was there, yet. Taking off his shoes, he noticed how the other man's were a very expensive, pristine condition yet everyday pair that maybe costed more than he made this week. Who, kept being in his space, watching him, with a belligerent smile, knowing exactly the effect he had on this new guest. To his dismay, when he finally moved to the living room, he noticed his fine shoes matched his clothes; he glimpsed a tailored blue jacket resting on the back of a chair, carefully put to avoid all creases; his shirt looked like it was made of the finest thread while the brand the tie was purchased from was one of the untouchable ones.

Shit.

Upon arriving in the living room, he noticed there were two wine glasses on the table; by the placement alone, he knew which one was hers – the half-empty one – and purposefully took the seat tokiohad occupied—the one next to this offending man. Saitou looked for a wedding ring, but saw none.

Goddamn it.

"Would you at least introduce yourself while I pour a drink for our guest?" she pleaded indignant but the blow to Hajime's ego was too big; _our_ guest? What kind of relationship did they have? A terrible thought went through his mind then, but he decided not to listen to it yet.

"Naturally; I'm Tora, pleased to meet you."

"Saitou."

Tora's hand extended, but Saitou deliberately ignored it, making sure the other man knew. He simply nodded. And yet, not only did he understand the unspoken challenge, not only did he not seem deterred, on the contrary! His smile became a smirk and withdrew the peace offering.

"Don't tell me you're the detective To-chan's been telling me about?"

"Must be," To-chan; did he just call her _To-chan_? That is ridiculous and degrading "unless you think there are two of us." The fact he never sat down, simply kept hovering over him, could really drive him crazy. In fact, it already was. "What do you do for a living?"

"Ah, I have a very boring job; I'm in business administration, you know how that is. One, two, three, five companies to keep an eye on."

"I wouldn't know; usually you fall under the category of people I arrest."

"Oh, how interesting; To-chan, did you hear," he asked, all enthusiasm and knowing looks Saitou's way "the detective says he's arrested business men! Do you think that annoying Gyoro could be one of them?"

Just then, Tokio emerged from the kitchen with a tray in her hands that held a whiskey glass and snacks. She snorted at the notion. "Please! That snake's a dirty dealer, not a murderer; Hajime deals with violent crimes exclusively."

"Oh, I see. How sad."

Hajime moved to relieve her of her load instantly, but once he did, that allowed this...clown, to stop her from sitting down next to him, by pulling her in a one-armed hug and keeping her there, hand casually over her shoulders. She didn't look all that comfortable but she most certainly was used to his antics because she didn't fight him at all and that made Saitou, for a small second, really feel like he was going to be the perpetrator of a violent crime himself—a punch right in his smug face.

 _Relax_ , he advised, _don't jump to conclusions_. But how could he not when they just stood there like that?

"Anyway, just before you came, we were talking about how this apartment was maybe the best choice for her: plenty of space, light coming in from everywhere, walls to hang her pictures and, of course, rooms for the future. Don't you agree?"

He had to grit his teeth not to swear. "I suppose you're right."

"But it's so far away from where I live, it's inconvenient." Saitou could not hide him smile at his discomfort. "I know! What if we sell it? Get you a near identical one a block away; I saw it being for sale yesterday." that's when Tokio forced him to unhand her, hands on her middle, a tried look on her face. "Don't be like that; I'll be able to keep a closer eye on you like that."

What. The fuck. What the ever loving actual fuck?

His hands squeezed his knees so hard, his bad knee almost kicked out involuntarily from the jolt of electricity he sent it. And to think Tokio was so casual with him, what the hell? She just clicked her tongue at his feeble excuse and his his head.

"Are you for real? This is **my** house and you ain't selling shit."

His smile became teasing. "I could if I wanted to."

Saitou thought about that; he wanted to hit him and he definitely could. The question was, should he? He turned to his drink. Maybe take a sip; or two; or twenty, to calm his nerves.

"What's the name on the contract?"

"Takagi."

She tapped her foot. "Takagi what?"

"...Tokio."

"Precisely."

"Well, Takagi Tokio, Takagi Tora, who'll notice?"

Saitou chocked on his drink and both turned to look at him; Tokio was alarmed, but when he noticed Tora simply smile wider, he waved them away. "I'm fine. Something got stuck," he coughed, but he could only focus on Tora's smile; Takagi Tora. The smirk finally was revealed to him for what it really was: a teasing smile, designed to incense anyone who didn't know the details. After all, if he hadn't been so self absorbed, he'd remember her brother's name, right?

"Tora, I'm not selling this house; I love it."

"Mum and dad always tried—"

"Leave them out of this and just _leave_ ; you were going anyway."

"I was not."

"Leave the man be," Saitou defended him then, a huge weight lifting off of his shoulders.

"The man's been here three hours already; he needs to go."

"Last time I came by was five days ago; five! And I only stayed for like an hour."

"That's not too long," Saitou murmured out loud, but it was only after he said it he realised he shouldn't have. The affront on both their faces was comical. "Fine, it's long; too long."

"Very long," Tora corroborated, satisfied he was a quick study "and it isn't just me. Sister says," he turned to Tokio "why haven't you been over lately? She's upset." Tokio rolled her eyes again but her brother wouldn't let her get away with it. "Says if you don't go there, she'll come instead."

From the way her eyes bulged, he figured that was a bad thing. "No, no, I'll go; tell her I'll go. Monday, I'll be there."

"Fair enough, I think she'll be pleased."

She beamed at him. "And now go."

"Tokio...!"

"Go home," she pat his back "your cute little daughter will worry; she'll be asking where her daddy is."

Oh, he had a daughter; but not a wedding ring? Still, it sounded like he had custody, and if he judged by that stupid smile that suddenly took over his face, he could safely say yes, he was her guardian.

"That's true; she's very cute; and will wonder. She loves me very much," he assured Saitou, who simply nodded "she'll worry."

"And since you never bring her over anymore." Tokio jabbed "at least go be with her. Tch! Almost a month, Tora. I demand to stop this embargo of yours immediately."

"Then maybe negotiate better terms."

They proceeded to stare at one another for a long time, neither giving in; he knew those battles. He had his fair share with both his brother and his sister and he could tell they were arguing about something that has been brought up only a million times by this point. The stalemate came to an end, as she did the underhanded trick: slapped the back of his head. "Idiot. I demand to see my niece."

"Come visit us for once, then."

"...fine. I will."

She preened like a peacock for having won the argument and her brother simply shook his head. "I'm leaving, stupid." She kissed his cheek and in return he hugged her. "Bye To-chan; it was nice meeting you, Saitou-san."

His hand extended again...only this once, Saitou was quick to take it; firm grip, he gave a good shake and Tora couldn't help the knowing look he sent his way that was so on point, he had to look away. The woman realised this must have had some significance but pressured neither to explain the odd behaviour. As far as she was concerned, they got decently along. So, he waited until the door was closed behind them, whence he simply threw himself on the couch, exhausted.

"I'm sorry about him," Tokio apologised once more, coming to sit on her shins, right next to him, feet folded underneath. "He wouldn't leave."

"Does he know about me?"

"He knows...something."

He laughed, relieved. He not only was but acted the part of the protective older brother. He understood. If only he hadn't given him a heart attack once or twice would have been even better. Not that he blamed him. "I understand. I'd probably do the same." He looked at her. "So, you'll be at your sister's on Monday."

"Well, Monday to Thursday morning; she lives in Osaka. That's why I didn't want her coming, she always stays long. And last time she visited, she stayed at brother's so now she'd definitely be coming here."

"You don't want your sister around?"

"Snooping through my things and coming to conclusions and then giving me accurate but completely uncalled for advice? No thanks." He chuckled. "She followed mom's career and became a psychologist so that's pretty much her talent."

"I see." He considered. "Maybe I'll come by tomorrow, too; and Sunday."

"Whatever you want. But you didn't eat anything...!"

"I'm not that hungry right now."

An image had stuck in his brain, when he saw her brother be so casual with her and though, naturally, he had been replaced in his mind's eye, the image remained. The man didn't matter, apparently, only she did; and what the man was doing to her. With her.

So, he put **his** hands on her waist, bringing her closer, feeling her skin. "Maybe later."

"I'll find that the word you're looking for is after, detective," she teased and earned herself a very aggressive kiss for it.

"You talk too much," he snubbed and this once didn't give her a chance to speak again. She could only sigh, moan, and kiss him.

"Hajime," she started, a couple of hours later.

She could sense that something was bothering him. After they had a bite or two, they went to sleep right away, but even during then he didn't say much. He had appeared pensive ever since her brother was there in fact and she had a feeling it had to do with that but not quite. After she was sure he had his attention, she asked "what's the matter?"

"...why do you think there's something wrong?"

Turning around to look at him, she put her head in her hand. "You feel restless." Proof of his existing problem was the fact he still hadn't fallen asleep; by now, he should have been snoring.

"Why would you think that?" he asked instead of denying or confirming her suspicions.

Her smile became a little awkward. "I can tell." _By what_ , his eyes asked; she shrugged. "There are days and days, you know; this is one of them."

"Days?" She nodded. "Of what?"

"Well, some days you feel better, some you don't."

"What do you mean by that?"

She huffed, visibly uncomfortable with this type of questioning. "If you don't understand, I can't explain it better without sounding inappropriate; is there something on your mind today, Hajime?"

"...yes," he admitted.

 _Finally_ , she almost cheered. This man was so stubborn, she swore... "Do you want to tell me what that is? Maybe I can help."

"Tokio, are you seeing anyone?"

That caught her by utter surprise. Her shoulders fell; her head left her chin and she had to actually sit up just to look at him and make him really feel how stupid his question was. "I mean, other than me, are you seeing anyone?"

"I barely have time for you in my schedule, it's been too hectic at work—you're the same. How can you ask me that?"

"But if that wasn't an issue."

She took a good, hard look at him. "What you want to know is very different from what you're asking, though."

"No," he tried to deny, but she wouldn't let him; he sighed "maybe; I don't know. Just answer me."

That image he had tried so hard to erase, did not go away; as if it clang on to something invisible, he worked so hard, so much effort and yet, it did not leave. It returned, the moment he looked at her back, twenty minutes ago. When he put his arms around her, fifteen minutes ago. And when he brought her closer, he had the urge to just squeeze until she melded with him.

 _Why_ , was going to be her question, but she could tell, it was an ego thing. Had she been, could she be sleeping around with any other men while being with him? And yet, he didn't look like the unreasonable type. He probably knew if she wanted, she had every right to do so; he never told her anything specific about what he was trying to do with her, where he was getting at, it was only natural. Then again, he never said anything presumptuous; he merely asked a question. A loaded one, but just a question that she goaded out of him, meaning he didn't want to make it, most probably because he knew all of that already.

She took a deep breath; she exhaled. He tensed.

"No, I wouldn't. I'm incredibly, _moronically_ , near-sighted" he ignored her little glare "and only see what's in front of me. And now it's you; and that's enough."

It was gone. Just like that, with only one word from her, the image vanished right in front of his eyes. Ah fuck, this was bad. "Me, too," he admitted unprompted, defeat bitter on his lips. He took her hand then and urged her to lie on his chest.

She giggled. "You are incredibly, moronically near-sighted as well? How delightful."

That's it, that's the thing; she knew what to say and when. She teased but knew when to quit; or start again. She understood. That's why he had been, as much as he feared to even think the word, jealous. He became so viscerally jealous he became borderline violent. That shit's scary—he wasn't the possessive type, nor a child, to feel threatened by someone else. And yet, he did. Because they had no set rules, he tried to console his soul that started vibrating, he wasn't actually getting attached. Which was why once they clarified that at least, he was at ease.

He wasn't falling in love with her; he just needed to know where they were standing. Now he did and the feeling would go away...hopefully.

.

Today was Thursday; last time he had visited was Sunday, as promised and time had passed twice as fast as usual; on the other hand, these four days she was away, time seemed to slow down for him and everything took an exorbitantly amount of time to finish; when he was supposed to get off work that same day—he was nearly buzzing. Okita noticed, naturally – Okita had noticed too many things, actually and had commented on them more than once; and it all had to do with oh how well rested he looked, how he appeared happier lately, but he had easily dismissed him – and asked him about it. He convincingly lied about how he had to help with an errand because his brother's wife needed him there for an ultrasound and despite feeling like a dick for using his future niece or nephew, he still grabbed his coat the moment his paperwork was finished and he could finally go.

He appeared at her doorstep eleven o'clock sharp. Knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. Only this once, she didn't; instead, he heard her voice ask "Hajime is that you?"

"Yes," he replied as clearly as possible.

"Open the door yourself and shut it quickly."

Strange.

She'd never done that before. Well, if she came back later than anticipated, since he never called, she could still be in the shower or something. Shrugging, he did as was told...and was faced with quite the sight. There were no lights overhead or lamps on in the entire house; only candles. Candles everywhere. Tealight scented candles that paved the way from the fall to the bedroom; some on the tables all around; others hang from ornamental wooden structures off the walls and ceiling, others were in their own glass case, scattered as far as his eye could see. Like fairy lights, they guided him to the coveted prize.

There was another sort of pleasant scent that wafted through the house, too and it came from the incense that burnt here and there, relaxing him the more he breathed it in. Relaxation and exhilaration; what a combination.

He stood motionless for a moment, trying to savour all of it. She did go all out for him; he should thank her. And right about now, he had about a hundred ideas on exactly how he should show her the entire extent of his gratitude, one more pleasurable than the next. Confident, he walked to the bathroom, washing his face and hands hurriedly and then, purposefully slow, he reached the bedroom.

There was the centerpiece.

Tokio was lying on the bed seductively, surrounded by seemingly ordinary or random things. She was wearing an unbelievably flattering fuchsia corset; black lace covered it in certain parts, making it tasteful; matching fuchsia ribbons hang from its end, at her hips; the attached garters held in place a set of thigh-high, fishnet socks with a bow on each upper end, in the same colour as the corset. The look was completed with a long, see-through, black kimono which consisted mainly of lace.

"Evening detective." She rubbed her leg on the silk cover once or twice. "Long time no see."

She did nothing to indicate she was going to move...at least not on her own. He loosened his tie and approached as she struck another pose. "I hope you brought your handcuffs with you tonight. We're gonna need them."

He slowly pulled it free and threw it on the floor; equally, tortuously slow, he started undoing his shirt...just to counteract his heart beat. If one person was able to die of anticipation, he would have. His fingers ached to touch her and when he realised what these things – foods mostly – that surrounded her were for, he felt his excitement grow alarmingly.

He was close to the bed now, within reach. She did not allow him to take off his shirt, simply dragged him down. Compliant, he did as she wanted: she sat him against the headboard, then took the black velvet mask on her right and put it over his eyes. Her hands delved between his skin and his shirt as she removed it, something cold touched his back and he jerked. She pushed him back down, chuckling, and assured him it was alright...then he felt it on his chest, slide down his torso.

It was an ice cube.

She purposefully moved it around and whatever trail it left, she licked off. When he tried to help her with removing more articles of clothing, she slapped his hand. "Nah, ah; not yet." He felt her weight on his legs; slowly, it ascended and settled right in his lap. "You just lie there and do as you're told."

The last of the ice cube was melting on his abs and he felt her take whatever was left with her fingers. "Now open wide."

Whatever he bit into was something soft and sweet...it was a strawberry covered in chocolate. She made it so that he made a mess, juices running everywhere, so she could kiss, lick and wipe whatever was left. He licked his own lips and lay back. She must have noticed him twitching then because she giggled.

"You'll get your turn detective, fret not...once I'm satisfied," she purred in his ear and everything about this moment, he wanted to last forever.

This was going to be a long, long, long night, if he had any say in it.

.

.

"Mmm," he murmured, nuzzling her neck "I really like this."

She was still wearing the full get-up, minus the kimono, and they were somewhere between sleep and awake, lying or sitting in her bed, chatting idly. "Really like this," he repeated, hands touching the corset in particular places "the lace here is very nice, too." He felt it between his fingers and it felt coarse; her skin was softer. He opted to touch that.

"Is that so?" she asked, pecking his neck.

He nodded. "The colour is interesting, too, I enjoy it..."

"Is that all you enjoy about it?"

"Mmm?"

"The corset for the sake of beauty?"

If he was any less sleepy, he would have laughed. "Are you maybe expecting a compliment, too?"

"Mmmm, maybe."

He closed his eyes and sniffed; he really loved the way her skin smelt, especially after their scents had mingled like this. "You have excellent taste," he said against her skin and she complained by giving him a light pinch. "Excuse me but what more compliment do you want? We just spent an ungodly amount of time having sex; isn't that enough?"

She shook her head, pouting. "You pride yourself on your stamina."

"I'm still human, woman," he grumbled as he sank into her chest, just breathing her in. She had to laugh, even if it was weak and idle.

"I'll take it..."

Tokio was very perceptive and, in a way, considerate. He'd never outright said it, but he liked these bright in-your-face colours for these occasions. They were more fun and exciting. He hadn't spoken the words, but she found out all on her own. Trial and error, he supposed and appreciated her a bit more. She made quite the effort for someone who didn't even know what he wanted.

"What did sister say this once?"

"Looked me straight in the eye and advised: don't ever let something as stupid as what will people say, stop you from doing what you really feel like doing; the right people won't care and those who care aren't the right people."

"Wise words..." This was nice; this was exactly what he needed. "I missed this," he murmured, not really filtering what came out.

"I figured," she kissed the top of his head "hence all these..." Her smile grew. "I'm glad it worked."

"No, I didn't mean the...well, sex is always good, but that's not what I missed..."

"Oh?"

The words stopped coming. He tried to blink. It was nothing other than genuine curiosity that finally compelled him to reexamine what the hell was coming out of his mouth; that's when he realised he was positively trying to tell her he missed her.

He missed her...? He did, didn't he? Ah fuck; this was very, very bad.

"Never mind," he dismissed her in the end.

"But what did you mean?"

"Just go to sleep..."

"You're always like this," she commented something between joking and serious "whenever you attempt to express any sort of emotion, you think twice and take it back."

"It's too late for this...!"

"It is," she agreed, after her glare almost turned into a squint. "You are such a child," she still found time to complain as she lay down properly. In an effort to stop her, he pulled her in for a hug. "At least you're warm."

Seeing it was October now, the chill bothered her, all the more so after he convinced her to leave one window open for him. He watched as she snuggled up to him, blanket at the ready; once she closed her eyes, she drifted off immediately. But he couldn't; all he could think of was how she was right. She hit the nail on the head. Every time he wanted to express something deeper, he shut down, much like now.

Still, he did miss her.

Marking this as incident number two, he decided to do the unthinkable. After all, he needed someone to tell, then help him put his thoughts in order but no friend or family would do. He had to turn to the last resort.

.

"My, oh my, this is a surprise. Welcome detective, come inside."

A young, always impeccably dressed woman was sitting in an armchair that faced the window and not the door; she had turned back to see who'd just entered her office and she had to take a second look to be certain she wasn't seeing things. She showed him the very comfortable white couch opposite her and she was pleased to watch him plop down. He didn't want anything to drink, when she offered but she knew he didn't; he was a man who got to the point. If he wanted to drink, he'd have brought it with him.

"Tell me, Saitou-san, what seems to be the problem?"

He sighed. "Doctor-patient privilege, right?"

She nodded "obviously" and waited for him to start; it took him a couple of minutes to get any traction and once he did, it still took about ten minutes before he finally trusted her enough to confess the juiciest parts. And he did tell her virtually everything, what happened between them as well what was going on in his mind. When he finished, an impressive sigh, one that put all others before it to shame, left his lips. Left hand combed back his hair and looked at the woman head on, who'd been leaning forward in her chair for a while now, notebook squeezed between her stomach and leg, long black hair spilling over her shoulders.

"To start with, I'd like to say I'm very proud you decided to come to me, overcoming a huge bias on your part," she started, yet treated it as a footnote, as she rushed to get to the good part "I really do. That being said, you mean to tell me you completely ignored my advice last time, invested in none of the coping methods I proposed and instead, you decided to unload all of your pent-up feelings of loss, aggression, fear and apprehension on this unsuspecting woman, who for some unfathomable reason puts up with you?"

Shameful, he nodded yes; the doctor fell back in her chair defeated yet flabbergasted. "This is..." she shook her head "to be expected, to some degree."

That surprised him; she shrugged. "It's because you didn't listen; you never do. To anyone. Your friends complain Saitou-san," his distaste was obvious "only because they care for you." tapping her fingers on the notebook, she crossed her legs in a lady-like manner. "So, what's with this Tokio? Why her?"

"It felt right, the first time; and then it progressively cemented itself..." He shrugged. "She makes me feel good; she helps me forget."

"Is it the sex or is it her?"

"Her."

There was no hesitation in his voice when he said it; that was deemed very interesting. "Saitou-san, you've latched yourself onto this woman physically and emotionally; you need to take a step back."

"No," he retorted, absolute "I just need to stop being emotionally attached to her and you're going to tell me how; that's why I came to you."

"I don't erase feelings, Saitou-san," she stated with authority "I help people come to terms with them." Her hand moved through her hair, tossing them. "And what you need to do right now isn't keep spiraling out of control, but pull yourself together. She's means to an end, yes?" His lack of response told her all she needed to hear. "So, in order to sort out things, you need perspective, to look at things from a distance, yes?"

"...I guess."

"So you need to...?"

"...come here," he finished for her; "I came here for you to tell me."

She tried not to be indignant with him; that's what she was trying to do, but he didn't get it. "What you need is distance." He urged her to continue. "From her," she explained.

He felt the pit of his stomach disappear. "What? No way; out of the question." She sighed at his stubbornness. "I came here to show me how to stop being jealous of her, not to put an end to it."

"It doesn't have to be an end," she probed "it could be a start; I only spoke the word distance."

"I can't stop going to her." Her eyebrow was raised, a judgmental stare followed. "It's not about the sex, you don't understand."

"Alright, I believe you." He found her to be honest, so he calmed a little; it was the urgency in his voice that compelled her to do so. "But you're right; I don't understand. Explain it to me."

He massaged his forehead, trying to come up with the right words to express his feelings, which was never an easy task to him; and she watched him struggle from her chair, but did nothing to help the situation, or make it worse. She gave him all the time he needed, in order to see the full extent of his issue.

"Have you...ever been out of breath?" Interesting start; she nodded for him to continue. "When you dive so deep that you can barely make it to the surface on time and you're fractions away from drawing that breath you know you're going to make but you still slightly panic due to lack of oxygen and think you won't make it after all...?"

She nodded yes.

"That's how I feel every single day of every single week of every single month; I've felt like that for months. And just as I was about to give in completely, she came along and suddenly, I can breathe again. When I'm around her, I can breath like before—..."

His words died because he didn't want to admit it. If he said it, he made it real. If he kept quiet, he wasn't a pathetic hip of flesh and bones who'd bee in agony for the past – now – year. If he didn't speak the words out loud, it could be denied; it could be dismissed. But if he did, he condemned himself. Hence he never spoke to anyone about anything, the situation with Tokio included. Then, maybe it could last; and for four months now, it went admirably, why not four more? God knew he needed it.

He turned to the doctor, and he could tell she finally understood; the comprehensive stare that pierced him was for too perceptive for anything less. Pen on her cheek, she was in deep thought. He did not use this analogy lightly: drowning was a terrible way to go, painful and agonising; he did because that's what he felt. She sat up better.

"You could say she's become a bit of a constitution, yes? Someone who has such an important role in your life that the idea of willingly foregoing contact upsets you." He didn't like how she put it but damn it all she was right. "Which is why I'm telling you, distance is imperative."

" _How_."

"What if she moves?" That he did not expect. "What if she decides she's had enough and breaks it off with you?" He looked a little resigned to that and she realised this must have been the one scenario he too had thought of. "What if she decided to go on a long business trip again and she has no way of getting in touch with you? What if she decides she doesn't ever want to see or hear from you again, with no logical explanation and tells you to go away next time you show up?"

If looks could kill, she'd have dropped dead twice; the ferocity, offense, as well as pure unadulterated fear that glared at her almost scared her. But she had to deal with Hijikata Toushijou not two days ago, she wouldn't be discouraged.

"But you do get what I'm trying to say."

"Yes," he barked.

"You aren't simply attached; you are dependent on her. Stop seeing her for a while and decide what you feel about her. But don't leave things as they are, for your own good." He clicked his tongue; she pursed her lips, dissatisfied. "What do you usually do together, other than sex?" she demanded.

"...we chat; she tells me how her day was, talks about her family...we eat something, sometimes have a drink...when I feel like it we watch a movie." He shrugged, not knowing where she was getting at, but it looked like he answered her question to her satisfaction.

"Do you leave the same night?"

"No, I stay till next morning, but I always leave early; I never have days off." Out of choice and they both knew it so he felt he didn't need to clarify; work always helped him through his issues...other than now, apparently.

"Then I suggest this: take a day off and go to her the night before; stay the morning, don't rush it. And once you do, come back to me." Her black, sharp eyes deepened their stare. "And you'll understand why I recommended distance."

"As you wish, doctor; I'll be back in four days."

"Be back whenever you want; I'm not going anywhere."

.

"I really hate you."

Saitou was glaring daggers at her, standing in front of the door he closed; her smile became particularly wide the moment she connected the voice to the identity and when she actually turned to face him, she had to chuckle.

"Hello detective. Welcome back."

"Don't be cute with me, Takani; this is your fault."

He threw himself on the couch, taking up more than half of it, the way he spread his legs and slang his arm over the back. "You were right," he answered to her probing eyebrows "isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

"You know it." His ire brought her mirth. "So, what happened?"

"We got up late, had breakfast, talked...argued..." his eyes darted to the doctor; his glare was venomous "one thing led to another and we actually fought."

She tried not to smile—scratch that, she just did. _Don't laugh, Megumi_ , she cheered for herself mentally and focused back on him. "Was this your first fight?" He nodded; now she couldn't help it. "And you've been together for four months, oh my god; this Tokio must be a very, very patient woman. I have to meet her." Shaking her head, she waited for the hiccups to die down. "Are you on speaking terms now?"

"Yeah," he replied as if saying "duh" "it was just an overblown argument."

"How did you resolve it?"

"I apologised."

"Did you mean it or were you simply hoping she wouldn't stay mad at you?"

"Both; she said how I was being too rigid and if I don't validate an opinion personally then I automatically thought it false or needless, even when it was about insignificant things and, she was right. I do that. So apologised." He sighed. "We made up and then talked some more...but then she had to go to work, because – per usual – I hadn't called to let her know I had a day off and...I panicked. It didn't show but I actually panicked." He was at a loss with himself. "Isn't that what you were aiming for? There, you got it. I need rehab."

Her smile was triumphant; like the cat who ate the canary, she raised a finger. "The word you're looking for is distance."

They said the last word at the same time; he waved her away. "I'm not doing it to spite you, Saitou-san; it's for your own good. You developed an emotional dependency on this woman, originating from your fear of loss and inability to deal with it. But if you don't, with her, who's still here, how will you deal with those who have already passed? And you, more than most, need to deal with this, because you were there."

Saitou's entire body shivered and sprang up.

"And because you were there for both—"

"Thank you Takani-san," he cut her off immediately and she barely registered when he went from the couch to the door "I'll tell you how it goes."

The woman sighed, sinking back in her armchair. Damn it, she rushed it. The fact was that if he didn't address the actual problem, the loss of his friends and his perceived responsibility on the matter, he wouldn't be able to move on. At least talk about it! But no, not him; he felt the shift of the conversation instinctively and booked it. Damn it; damn him! He was one of the most difficult people in the entire precinct. She just hoped that whatever advice he decided to follow did him some good.

.

Tokio was worried.

It'd been a week and a half since she last saw Hajime; it was the day they had fought, but she doubted that was his reason for staying away, it was a minor thing. And when he had apologised, which she didn't even ask him to do, he did it on his own, he was very honest; when they parted that day, he did seem a little out of sorts, but not at all bitter or upset. She guessed it had everything to do with how much time they spent together and how that made him feel; but then again, he had mentioned of another joint operation he was participating in, all six of them in it this once, and that was her main reason of concern.

She was no idiot; she put two and two together. Last time that happened, Toudou died; the other two probably died in a similar or the same situation. One could easily divine her reason to worry: both bodily and mental harm could easily befall him; the first more urgent that the second, but both were obviously bad. And yet, not knowing was worse! Had he chosen not to visit her anymore and this was his way of telling her, fine! It sucked to be rejected, but fine. She liked the man; she wanted to see him happy and pain-free...she could finally admit that yes, she did care, in a much more invested way than just a friend or someone she happened to sleep with.

She would accept him moving on...what if he hadn't though and he was in some hospital bed, hurting, fighting for his life? And she wasn't there to hold his hand...

Her mind had been going in circles for almost a week now; an hour and a half today in particular. Wait no, make that two hours—it was already one in the morning. And she still couldn't sleep. Not that she did yesterday, or the day before that; or before that even. It was because she'd gotten used to sleeping late; it was his fault. If he had the audacity to change her sleeping patterns like that, he should have the decency to visit, too but no, he was nowhere to be found. And now who would she hold accountable for all her heartbreak? Meh, it was no use. Another night alone, another lonely night.

She looked at her watch, on the far-most wall of the living room; moping around got her to 1:49. impressive. Shaking her head at her own stubbornness, she turned the TV she wasn't actually watching off and stood to go to bed. Her empty, king-sized, cold bed.

She shrugged off her house clothes and put on her pajamas; her warm, fluffy, cute pajamas, to keep herself warm. She pulled the blanket over her-...

The bell rang; she froze. It was him. It could be no one else at this time of night, she was sure. Without giving anything much thought, she literally ran to her front door, uncaring for the few things that were knocked down in her haste. She reached in record time and pulled it open!

And she froze twice in ten seconds.

Yes, her wish had come true; it was Hajime who stood at the door. But her fear had also come true; he was hunched, as that white thing hang around his neck, supporting his left arm, wrapped up in something harder than bandages but not a cast – thankfully –; his face sported one huge wound that was covered with cotton and tape; his right eye was bruised, but functional; and his lower lip was cut a little too deep.

That's what's visible anyway.

"Hajime," she breathed, devastated, once her hand left her wide open mouth. She pulled him inside by the fabric of his clothes, fearing to actually touch him. "Oh god, what happened to you?" She nearly cried as she put her arms around his wait for a hug and closed the door behind him through it. "You're so hurt."

"You should see the other g—..."

The joke died in his throat; what was the point anymore? "I can't." He felt his knee starting to give out, so he took a step back, clutching it.

"Come sit down," she begged and led him to the living room. She sat him on his preferred couch where he proceeded to collapse on, lying on his back. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I can't," he repeated, hand coming over his eyes; he couldn't take her gaze on him, not when he was about to cry. "I can't Tokio; not anymore."

He was all over the place; there were a million things he could have meant, which is it? "What can you no longer do?"

"Cope."

That little word felt like a punch to the gut; it was so familiar a sensation, so honest. He was really breaking down on her. What had _she_ done then, how can she help? He was so vulnerable, too...she took to caressing his hair, trying to calm him down as much as she could; she didn't know if he knew, but he was shaking. Her eyes started welling up.

"I can't cope with the idea my friends keep dying; I'm still here. My wife left, I was strong; my friends died, I was there; then he died, and I...I'm still here. I'm still here! Yamanami isn't; neither is Yuzan; or T..." He really couldn't speak his name, it was impossible for him. "Why am I always the one to walk away from these things, actually walk away? What's wrong with me? I always escape—I was _right there_ when the explosion happened; when they came in, guns blazing; why did _I_ make it? Why am I the only one?"

She felt like being slapped; her eyes on him were sad. Tsuki had called that survivor's guilt, five years ago, and her heart went out to him. "You were there for-...?"

He nodded yes and she actually cried, tears falling from her eyes in abundance, but she tried to keep her voice as unaffected as possible for his sake. So, she wrapped him in her arms, as tightly as she could.

"To think you had to see that..." The kiss on his forehead was long and lingering, effectively stopping the shakes. She didn't let up on her hug though, not until he hugged back, finally removing his hand from his face. "I am sorry. You are so strong. I am so sorry, so, so sorry; but you are so strong."

Her smell was all he wanted think about; her warmth, her kindness...she kept talking, whispering soothing nothings and wishes, encouragements and apologies in his ear for so long, he felt his heartbeat relax. He had no concept of time in that moment. Was she holding him for a minute; an hour? He didn't know. How long ago was it since he last visited? Too long. When he tried to stay away, he was almost twitchy; then they had this raid and that was it.

He gave up. He could not do this alone. He could not face things on his own.

He needed a break; a break from himself, from his work and reality. He needed her and her soft touches. Her, with the bright black eyes that never judge. Who put her hands around him for comfort. Her, who should have been feeling slighted, used and _scorned_ and still didn't think twice of allowing her into her home.

Her. He needed her. He was comfortable with admitting that now, as it was her light caresses to his hair, her hand around him that managed to make him breathe again. He wanted her with him, next to him, not hidden away in an apartment, as if she was too good for him, or him for her; he wanted her there, all the time. Even when he didn't feel like being around someone; he wanted her for himself and he had to make his sentiments know or the world would take her away, as well.

"I couldn't stay home, or at the hospital; they gave me mandatory leave at work, too and I had nowhere left to go." Quite honestly, even if they hadn't, he didn't know if he could go back, at least soon; from the moment they told him of the raid, he could barely walk into the building. "So I just...came here."

"You did well to come."

"I'm sorry I'm bothering you."

"Not at all."

"Why?" She gave him a look. "You should be furious with me; why aren't you?" He put his able hand on her cheek. "Why do you even put up with me?"

She was unprepared for that, but not worried he posed said question; she just smiled, her hand on his. "That is not a conversation to have now; rest. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Give me the short answer for now, then."

She obliged, but she had to think about it a little. "I know you have issues to work through and I can understand, to some degree; and I...like you. I am willing to wait because I think we are some of those people who just click." She shrugged, a chuckle escaping her. "I didn't exactly suffer here, so..."

"I was tolerable," he actually joked and she smiled brilliantly. Joking was good; it bore hope.

"You were much more than that," she assured him and gave him another kiss. "You still are."

He closed his eyes, a sad smile on his face; he made himself comfortable in her arms and it was too soon he started drifting off. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," he murmured, sleepiness betraying him again.

But that didn't matter anymore; she was there and she was his.

Not ten minutes later, she realised he had fallen asleep. Well, it made sense; he must have been sleepless for some time now and he did always joke how her skin must have been made of poppy seeds, to practically sedate him every night. So, she lay there with him for a long time, unmoving.

"Mmm, Tokio?"

It was still dark outside; Tokio had curled around him in an odd position and he could feel his own bones creak at that. Thankfully, she seemed to stir when she heard her name spoken. "Do you mind if I stay with you tonight?"

"Why..." a yawn "...would I?" She stumbled to her feet first. "But you have to promise me one thing," she demanded, sleepy as she was "you won't go silent on me again."

"I promise."

Whether because his heart settled or he managed to get a good night's sleep, he woke up at eleven. What's more, she didn't. She did sleep longer than him...the only reason she woke at the same time was to make him breakfast. He was kind of hungry, but he didn't have to go to work, no need to wake her; he decided to look around until she did.

The longer he spent searching her house, he realised he had never really looked at her apartment properly. There were many, many photos on the walls and most of them, if not all, had to be hers. Most of them were very beautiful; artistic but the realism was out of this world. Most of them were portraits or some idyllic scenery. As he looked at them, he started appreciating her point of view; most of things she snapped where ordinary but the way she did it, they looked exceptional, something out of this world. So, she had a way to do that to everyone.

The more he looked at the pictures, the deeper into the house he went. He had never noticed there were two spare bedrooms; only one was an actual guest room though. The other was turned into a small show room: as if he was in some gallery, the walls were lined with framed pictures, two rows of them on every wall in fact, and they even had name plates underneath them, to describe the photo. But not who had taken it. Still, because of the way these were shot, he figured they were a mix: some hers, some other people's. Besides, the themes were too different from the rest.

Currently, he must have been standing in front of the most jarring yet hypnotic photo he had ever seen; its realism was skin-crawling. The timing was insane. And the content grim. But that was its marvel: it was too real, too cruel, too raw. It drew you in.

"Hey," she made herself known, standing at the threshold, in front of the open door. She approached with silent footfalls, standing right next to him. She proceeded to alternate between looking at him and the photo.

"This photo is...remarkable." Her humming signified she agreed. "A little horrifying, if you think of the implications, but extraordinary."

The photo was captured right at the moment a small homing missile struck the earth; half of it was exploding, while the ground, like a lake that you threw a rock in it, had ripples of dirt shooting high, in perfect sequence. Debris had already shot out, dirtying the lens a little, while there were people in the background, unfocused but clearly visible. Some were diving; some were being blown back; others were running for cover...others lay on the ground, already dead by some other reason.

This was a war zone.

"This photo won a Japan Photo Award prize." His expression said, he could see why; she smiled involuntarily. "It was a statement piece."

"I can understand; whoever made the statement though...unlucky folk." She looked at him curiously. "No one can survive an explosion from that up close."

"There's always zoom, Hajime."

"How much zoom do you think this has? Look at the people in the background—distorted. If it was zoom, they'd be clear."

"Oh, you are smart, sir." He pursed his lips. "You aren't entirely wrong; but there was zoom."

"You know the photographer? Did they make it?"

"This is my brother's least favourite photo," she chose to say instead,. "In fact, he hates it."

He didn't know where she was going with this, but his gut told him it wasn't going to be pleasant. He didn't have to be a detective to see the warning signs: she never looked at him, only stared at the photo, crossing her hands in front of her chest.

"Do you know why I became famous, Hajime?" He nodded no. "I was one of the youngest yet most successful as well as prolific battlefield photographers." He turned to look at her wide-eyed, almost agape. "Five years ago, a grenade exploded our jeep; I got the best of it—everyone else died."

She showed her back with her thumb. He knew her body in extreme detail to know he was referring to the huge scar she had on her left shoulder blade. He had never asked her how she'd gotten it out of courtesy. Maybe he should have. He nodded, awe-struck and a smile pulled at the corner of her lips, but suppressed it to continue with her story.

"We had a family council and decided it was high time I turned to more conventional landscapes. I agreed." A sigh. "Then three years ago, my brother called me, just as I'd come back home; I really wanted to grab a bite and take a shower that I almost declined his call...but I did answer in the end. And, he says, stop whatever you're doing, I'm picking you up, we're going to the hospital. Our parents, you see, with his wife and daughter in the car, had an accident."

Fuck.

"When we arrived at the hospital though, they were already dead; his wife was in the ICU but thankfully, his daughter was surprisingly unharmed."

If she'd told him her niece had died, he'd have literally started crying; he knew her brother had a daughter, but he could have had two and then he hated his brain for thinking that.

"Brother was...a rock. He arranged everything, the funeral, the dinner, the invitations; in contrast, sister couldn't hold it together for ten minutes and I just...signed off, you know. I refused to accept it." A chuckle. "I nearly called my mom that day, to tell her someone so close to me had passed." She shrugged. "A day later, he arranges his wife's funeral."

Another heavy sigh; there were no tears yet, but they had started forming. Hajime started getting sick to his stomach.

"Next day, it's the opening of the will; my dad was very rich and successful; left us all equal money and all that but, amongst other things, he left me management of two of his companies. But I'm a photographer, not a business major. The only reason he did that was because he himself was teaching me things and although I hated it, I knew something. He was hoping, I think, we wouldn't break apart because of their passing, but all I could think of was _nope_. Not gonna do it. This didn't happen; and I decided to deal with it, by **not** dealing with it."

He gave her a knowing look.

"Some drink to forget; others overeat. Some do drugs...others have sex." That she said a little teasingly. " _I_ went back to old habits; _bad_ , old habits; next morning I was on a flight to Syria. Neither sibling knew where I was going, they just wished me the best, said don't worry about us, just call to make sure you're alright; we do the same. We said goodbye and for the next three months I just worked. And then that happened."

"Those aren't birthmarks."

Her entire right side was riddled with four-five centimetres markings, from below her shoulder to her thighs, not too wide apart. Her face was spared, but her arm, torso front and back, almost all the way to her middle had gotten the worst. All of them.

"They are shrapnel scars." Again, he hadn't asked because he thought it'd be a little rude, especially since he was under the impression they were birthmarks, but _shit_.

"I was in the ICU for three weeks; once I was stable, they flew me back to Kyoto. When I opened my eyes, the first person I saw was brother." She smiled guiltily, a tear escaping. "Once I was well enough...oh boy. He started screaming at me at the top of his lungs. He just kept repeating something in the lines of what _did you think would happen, what did you expect_ over and over again; I had never seen him so upset, so angry, so...out of control."

He rubbed her back with his good hand; she let out something between a laugh and a sob. "Five minutes in, a nurse comes and takes him away; he was allowed back the next day. But it wasn't until my sister came later that evening that I truly grasped the magnitude of my injury—after all, I was out, I just opened my eyes. As far as I was concerned, I simply had some bruises and cuts. But then she comes in, calm as ever and tells me, point black:" a bracing breath, " _how dare you make him think he'd have to arrange a third funeral; of his baby sister no less_." She did sob this once; took a little time before she went on. "Tsuki is so passive-aggressive; I will never forget that cold, sarcastic smile of hers...and I just realised, I had to deal with it."

She must have truly come to terms with their passing because once the difficult part was over, once she wiped the couple of tears that fell, she was fine. No more sobbing, nothing. "I did, quickly enough. Sister was already living in Osaka by then so guess who took care of me."

"Tora."

She laughed. "Yeap; took me in his house where I stayed until I made a full recovery – an entire month mind you – and let me tell you, watching him do everything around the house: chores, cooking, caring for me, go to work, spend time with his daughter, call sister and with the help of only one other person, our head maid at the old house...it really put things into perspective."

She spared a furtive look for him, who was still idly rubbing her back.

"Had to pull myself together, step up; for my brother, who shouldered everything and never asked for anything. And my niece; she deserved a better aunt, not the one she had, whose first option was to run away—what kind of an example was that? But mostly...myself." That was said a little different than the rest. "I was better than that. I was stronger. I had to face things. But yeah, I couldn't do it alone. I turned to my family for help—which is exactly why, even now, two and a half years later, five days without seeing me is scandalous to brother. And of course, considering Tsuki is a psychologist, we could afford not to turn to a professional; we already had one. But even if she wasn't, just talking about it helps; when you keep it all inside, it corrodes you, slowly, but so, so certainly. Once I came to terms with the fact being strong didn't mean being alone, I truly calmed down."

She shrugged.

"Then I sent the picture to the magazine I usually worked with; it made the rounds on the internet then the news and it exploded. Before I knew it, it was nominated and I actually finally won that damn thing. Three times it slipped through my fingers...! But, in the end, I won with what my brother considers my worst work to date; says if you have to get blown up to win, fuck that."

"Stop saying it so nonchalantly; and he's right." He shook his head, trying to rid himself the image of her bleeding from every scar. "Enough war stories out of you for a year."

But _okay_ , he got it; he realised why she shared the story with him. It was gruesome and a little shocking, but it served its purpose. She understood loss, his state of mind, she was willing to give him time. If one asked him, she had lost much more than him, but he did remember the doctor had once said, when he mentioned how he could not compare to Toudou's family, loss is not a competition. It sucks for everybody. Granted, losing both parents and your sister-in-law was a bigger deal than a good friend, or three, yet it was still a human important to you dying. A gap was a gap and you still had to find a way to fill it.

At the same time, he was really thankful she decided to share this with him _after_ what happened yesterday; any earlier and he honestly didn't know how he'd deal with it. Maybe that was why she refrained, too, she was no idiot.

"If you feel comfortable with the idea," he began, walking away from the certain room "I would like to pay my respects to your parents."

"I'd like that."

"And, if you can move things around today, if you want, we could go for lunch."

"Mmmm, sounds nice."

"But there's a catch." Her eyes became smaller. "We won't be alone. The guys will be there, too."

"Oh, I don't mind."

"With their wives and girlfriends, too." She gave him an over-the-top suspicious look and he raised his palm flat to explain. "Once a month, we get altogether and have lunch; it's a tradition. It started around the time I'd gotten engaged. We had to cancel last couple of times because of...everything at work, so now it's a long time overdue. I wasn't going to go, but if you're coming with me, I wouldn't mind."

"Is that so?"

There was something very cute and tender in her voice, as well as the way she came close to him, hands curling on his chest. She was being cute. It was torture not to be able to grab her and do all sorts of things to her but his ribs hurt enough just by breathing; anything else would be at least abuse. So, he settled for a kiss right at the line her chin started and her cheek ended. She shivered for a second, that spot always made her skin crawl, and then smirked.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's a tradition," she claimed "I'd hate you to miss it because of me."

It'd been a long time he felt he made a right choice of any kind; looking at her now, he was convinced he'd just turned things around for him and hopefully this would be the first of many.

"What's the place like? I'd hate to overdress ."

"Right..." There were more he needed to tell her and the question seemed to bring that to the surface. "It's an upscale place, expensive; more of your scene than ours," she pursed her lips, kind of annoyed, he ignored her. "Just, be prepared for an interrogation."

"Pffff, I don't fear your friends or their significant others."

"No, but, you see, the reason we go to that place, despite being expensive and popular is because we always find a table, no matter what and we get a discount...because my mom's the head chef."

She went completely still; slowly, she raised her head, then her entire body simply to stare, transitioning to glare at him, eyes wide, chest expanding. He tried to calm her down with his uninjured hand, raising it in defense, but there was no stopping her.

"Hajime, are you serious!? Your _mother_? The same person who undoubtedly visited when you were lying in that hospital bed but never saw me there and now you're just gonna tell her, what? Oh we've been together for five months, but I never gave her my number!? What will I tell her? I, I can't—"

"Chill; mum's not the type to pry."

She crossed her hands, glaring harder. "She's your _mother_ ; I can't lie to-..." She looked away. "What's with this all-or-nothing attitude? You wouldn't take me out for a coffee, versus, meet my entire social circle and my mother in the same day." She clicked her tongue; he laughed. "Does my trouble amuse you?"

"Mother is not the type to pry; and she won't have too much time on her hands, she'll be working. But she **will** ask about you. As to why you didn't come, if you want to tell people the truth, I don't mind; if you tell them I came to you yesterday for the first time, I don't mind either. Just," he shrugged "whatever you want."

"...I can't let you leave here alone with that arm," she gave in, in the end "and you want to go there so anywhere else won't be the same. If you don't mind me meeting her, I guess I can put up with the awkwardness. But you'll owe me."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Sister is bound to come sometime next month; you'll have to come to a family dinner."

"...that doesn't sound too terrible."

" _Wait till you meet her_ ," she whispered in passing and was glad he didn't catch it. "So, nice place, nice clothes. I'm getting ready and then I'm driving you to your place to choose something for you, too. When's the lunch?"

"In three hours."

They were pushing it, but "we'll make it."

She proceeded to run to the bathroom, shedding clothes as she went; he shook his head, picking up after her. At least she said yes. He wasn't sure how she'd take it, but he really wanted her there; mission accomplished. He took out his cell and went to the living room and went out at the balcony. Only then did he call.

A smirk formed on his lips the moment he heard the other person pick up. "Hey, Okita; guess what."

.

.

.

One year later...

"Pink is fine."

Tokio clicked her tongue as both her hands fell on the counter. They were currently standing in front of a salesman, in the middle of the store Nagakura had suggested, with her brother's excited approval upon mention of the brand. They only needed to buy the essentials, they had told themselves but the moment they walked in, Saitou was taken in by all the cuteness: baby shoes, bibs, little baby suits and formal dresses...she, on the other hand, just wanted to get this over with. They'd already gotten what they needed and her ankles hurt for an hour now. Besides, he insisted on buying things in pink, fuchsia or lavender, as if other colours did not exist.

"Hajime, we don't need this. And even if we do buy it, let's go for the blue one instead."

"But the blue ones have no flowers."

"Exactly; but they do have cute sheep. Besides, I thought we said no gendered clothes."

"We're having a daughter," he informed her then as his hand rested on her very big stomach "why not?"

"We don't know what we're having because we decided to leave it as a surprise," she nearly cried.

"We're having a daughter," he insisted and turned to the salesman "so pink is perfect, right?"

"Why not a nice red one? Like a fire-truck," she tried to make a pitch, but the third and last member of their party, snorted.

"We're having a daughter," Okita dismissed her and looked at the dresses carefully. "How about this one?"

"You're the godfather, emphasis on god; stop acting like she's yours."

"Well, exactly! You're going to be a very scary dad to a small girl; when she can't confine in you and she has had a fight with Tokio-chan, whom do you think she'll come to?"

"My daughter won't fear me," he protested.

"Our son or daughter won't fear you, I agree; and you," she snubbed Okita "you're only here because Momo-chan said she'll be coming, too."

"Ugh, you're setting them up? Perfect, she'll have more reason to hate me now."

"What? Momo-chan adores you." But even she couldn't keep a straight face at that. "We're still not getting that pink thing, put it down."

"We'll carry them," Okita complained "what's your problem?"

"Madam," the ma behind the counter tried very hard to keep a serious face "so long it isn't used, you can return it and exchange it for something of equal value. If you want something more expensive, some fees will apply, but it's still possible."

"Ah, we could return it, yes..."

"I'm having a daughter. I'm not returning anything."

"What if it turns out it's a boy?" He looked away at her challenge, not mad, but resolved. "Well?"

"I'm having a daughter...eventually. I'm not returning anything."

Tokio's mouth nearly fell open as Okita started laughing; the salesman had to pretend he was looking for some bags under the counter, to keep his smiles or snickers unseen or unheard, but Saitou didn't care. He said what he said, he wouldn't take it back. According to Takani, it was the best way to resolve issues and he wanted a daughter; a son wouldn't be bad and he welcomed the child whatever gender it turned out to be, but...he was partial to a daughter. He loved his nieces and the few times this past year he babysat for Tora, she was a delight. He even had them all as bridesmaids to his wedding, they were so cute! It was only normal he wanted a cute little one for himself, so, even if this child was a boy, he'd just keep trying.

It's just that he forgot to mention that to Tokio. That could be a problem, but honestly, they had their entire lives ahead of them, it would come up sooner or later. Stealing glances at his best friend, they smirked at one another. Life, after a very long time, was on the right track. Now if only Momo-chan turned out to be just as well-suited for Okita, they could all be happy.

* * *

 **A/N** : I couldn't leave you without that happy ending, you know that. Stay healthy and happy peeps. See you next time.

Kisses,  
FAI.


	22. Second chances

**A/N** : Heeeeeey pretties! New story, yay. But it's going to be a one-shot. I know, I should be writing other things but yeah, no; this got stuck. This and another one. And a third one. Hopefully I'll have time for all of them. Hope you like this one. Many kisses, see you at the end.

 **Beta** 'd by **Error205**. And she had a lot of things to say about this story, lol.

 **Title** : Second chances  
 **Genre** : Romance  
 **Alternative Universe** : Modern Day

* * *

The heel of his foot tapped the floor, speed increasing the longer he spent sitting on the bench alone. With such long legs, lean and hunched as he was, he looked like an insect—about to fly away out of sheer frustration. How long could it take for a child to try on a coat? A coat. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair, stray tufts falling in front of his eyes, but otherwise, they stayed as they were, combed back and long enough to hang there without gel.

He looked inside the store he watched the two of them disappear into, the third in a row of countless shops, broken off only by storefronts of street food places and – way further down the line – restaurants. Oh great, they weren't even visible. They must be in a dressing room—who needs a dressing room for a coat? Obviously, they were trying on more things. Just great.

 _Women_ , he thought, rolling his eyes. He just hoped it was only the young one that tried something on, not the older one, too or they'd be there forever—him included, sitting on this bench, waiting for them to emerge.

But, if that was the case, he figured he had time to light a cigarette. Taking the pack out his jacket's pocket, the lighter out of his pants' pocket, he isolated one, brought it to his mouth and lit it. Ah, the first drag was always the most satisfying one...! He put the things back in their places and stood; he didn't want her to see him smoke and he always avoided it when he could, so he headed to the corner that hid him from their sight, if they were to walk out.

His ears twitched; for some reason, he felt his skin crawl. He was confused. Yes, he heard something, but what was it? A voice...? He eavesdropped. Yes, it was a voice; a woman's voice. He didn't know why, but his heartbeat quickened. Why was he being nervous? He concentrated, trying to listen to the actual conversation as well as where the hell it actually came from.

"Yes mother," he heard the tired drawl and electricity ran through him "I will call you as soon as I get off the train. I _promise_."

Now he knew why.

The voice was familiar, too familiar; but could it be? He looked to his right, craned his neck and then actually took the turn, to find himself to the other side of the shops and, sure enough, he spotted her: a short woman, talking on the phone, black hair up on a bun but by the sheer volume and density of it, one could tell there was a lot of it up there. The figure standing on the sidewalk, next tot he wall, matched the one he remembered, more or less, and the voice was the same; but most importantly, so where the mannerisms. Now he could feel his heart hammer in his chest, doubt yet certainty moving his feet close.

"I told you, I will; why don't you trust me? Have I ever lied to you?" She clicked her tongue, unaware of the tall man approaching her. "Bye mother; no, _I_ will call. I will; bye mother. _Bye mother_ ,"

"Tokio?"

The woman's shoulders squared, bite leaving her voice in an instant; she immediately turned around to the source of the voice, eyes wide and when she saw him, correctly looking up as much she did, her mouth hang lamely; a snort of laughter followed, a wide smile took over her face.

Oh god, it was her. It really was.

"I'll call you, bye mother," she summarily finished and once her attention was fully on him she smiled wider, disbelievingly. "Hajime." even her tone betrayed how surprised she was to see him there, but at least, it was all pleasant. "I...can't believe it's you, oh my god."

Unceremoniously, she opened her arms wide and, instinctively, he bent down to accommodate her; she wrapped them tight around him and squeezed, rocking herself on her tiptoes. "It's so good to see you again, it's been so long! So, so long."

"I know," he patted her back lightly "it's been a long time."

"How are you?" With a hug lasting little longer than proper, but who cared, she finally let go of him. "You look well! In fact, you look exactly the same...yet completely different."

They both laughed at that, her always more unrestrained than him. She couldn't help be a little too happy though, she felt giddy; to think she saw him again and so soon, amazing.

"Right back at you; look at that," he motioned to her ear and the two additional piercings she had from the last time he saw her "or that." Just underneath her collarbone, a tattoo started, going under her low-cut blouse, towards the left arm.

She laughed heartily. "You should see my other ones." she winked; he smiled.

In fact, she was exactly as he remembered her, but entirely different; those wrinkles when she smiled where the same; her smile was the same, too; her figure, her hands, her gesticulations as she talked, all identical. Just, she was dressed different now, more confidently, more like herself. She had tattoos and extra piercings now, wore more rings, too. And yet, she was the same. He just stood there, watching her for a very long time, not caring that it wasn't all that appropriate. He needed to look at her, make sure she was real, drink in her image. She had changed completely, yet not at all. Just like him.

She, of course didn't do much different; her smile was wide, compared to his neutral expression, but other than that, she simply stared, taking him in. Always tall, always imposing; always stood straight. And those amber eyes of his, so piercing, so beautiful.

"So, how are you? Why are you here? You really do look well."

"I look better than I feel," he confided in her and her mouth turned downwards. Always so expressive, he loved that. How he remained so calm and acted like nothing was amiss he did not know, because he felt like he was about to burst. "But I am quite well."

She swallowed. "I heard you got married," she tried to start a conversation.

"Your information is correct but outdated; I am currently divorced."

"Oh; I'm sorry to hear that." _But are you really, Tokio,_ her mind teased her and the blush had to be creeping up on her already.

"Thank you; how about you?"

"Oh, I uh," she chuckled "no such thing; not...nah, no way. I wasn't going to stay there, so I didn't want any ties."

It was a good thing she started this conversation; he could gain plenty of information about her status, too. Somehow, he was happy she was still single but he could not place why. "Sensible choice, I guess..." A smirk. "Though you never were one to make them."

"Hey, I detest that." When she smacked his arm, he knew she took no offense. "God, it's so good to see you again; and so soon, too! I just came back not three days ago."

"From where this once?"

"Ireland." He nodded; she smiled, knowing something he didn't. "I came back...for good." There it was; his eyebrows raised, interest recaptured. "I came home."

Oops; the pit of his stomach disappeared; his intestines became a knot. "Did you?" She nodded. "Six years were too much, huh?"

"Six years was what it took for me to say I'm retiring," she laughed "I made enough money for a lifetime; now it's back to base and I'll only deal with projects I deeply care about. I did make a name for myself, too so..."

His mind was reeling from that statement. "One could say leaving was the best choice you ever made then."

She could read him like a book. Even after six years, nothing about this man changed. She could tell he was thrilled to see her, for his eyes were peeled on her, never leaving her face for more than two seconds, chest out and proud; and now, eyes to the side, smirk lowering to a grin, he was sad about something. Or remorseful. If it was what she thought it was, she could have slapped him! Not because he was offending her, but himself. Hurt as well as a little heartbroken he still thought like that, she tried to play it off.

"Maybe, financially."

"Oh please, look at you; you look amazing. It did you good, in general."

"...it was lonely though."

He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He stopped. Somehow, for her to tell him that, felt like a slap to the face for more reasons that one. A wake up call maybe, too. He coughed, to hide his unspoken words.

"Shopping I see;" referring to the bags at her feet "and not even three days that you're back."

She pursed her lips, pretending to be slighted. "I wanted to walk the streets, if you must know, reacquaint myself with Kyoto; and I just so happened to catch a glimpse of things I needed to buy."

"Ah, is that so?" She nodded, loftily. "And it has nothing to do with shiny things?"

She fought really hard not to laugh. "Only a tenth," she assured and he couldn't help the smile.

"A tenth? That's an improvement; it used to be at least three tenths."

She did laugh this once. "I missed this..." she whispered, mostly to herself but he heard it; she didn't notice, but he did.

Something burnt in his chest that moment, which reminded him very much of hope; what he was hoping for, he could not tell yet. Still, he decided to test his theory. "It feels like it was only yesterday I'd complain about your shopping habits, actually; why did you spend that much on a pair of boots? And why are you buying a fifth trench-coat, do you really need it?"

"Or the ring; you had thrown a fit when I bought that ring."

"Ah, _the ring_."

She laughed hard; his tone as if he being confronted with his greatest enemy, was hilarious. "Yes, the ring; remember what you'd said? If it ain't for the middle finger, no more than three figures," she mimicked his voice, quite accurately.

He shook his head. "I still stand by that."

"Of course you do." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Just like you insisted you were always right." His natural, "but I am" went ignored. "So, you had to sleep on the right side of the bed, too."

Even before he ever spoke, just by the defensive position he took, one could tell this was a repeated argument. "But that's where the only nightstand was and I always put my alarm clock on it; you didn't have to wake up until after nine, I woke up at six!"

"But you're left-handed—left side is more convenient for you."

"You do remember you wouldn't let me put the nightstand on the left because it didn't look right, yeah?"

Her entire being vibrated. "It would look _terrible_ , I believe were my exact words and it would—it didn't go there!"

"So, it stayed there; where I should've been, too." He snorted. "Not that logic ever stopped you; you did always take the right side and then complained I woke you up when the alarm went off."

"There was perfectly working floor on your left."

"No one puts their alarm clock on the floor, that's ridiculous."

"I did; still do."

"You aren't the norm, we've discussed this before."

They both gave their equivalent of a polite laugh, memories flooding back; it was uncanny how easily they fell back into old behaviors. She dared look at him in the eyes only for a second. "So, why are you here, detective? You never answered."

"Oh, right; I'm here to pick out a birthday present for my niece." Her face lit up. "She's turning five," he said with superfluous severity "she's a big girl now." She laughed. "Or so she said. And I've been wanting to buy her something nice but I never managed so I decided this was the best moment."

"Right."

"So, I went to my sister and asked, what do you need for her? She advised me to just get her a present, but one that'll last. I immediately thought: jewelry."

They spoke the last word at the same time. She knew him so well. "She has her ears pierced so I decided on earrings, instead of a name tag, she'll wear it more."

"Oh definitely."

"But when I told her, she said she wanted to come, too; she didn't trust my taste."

Tokio laughed. "What a little devil." She shook her head. "But she should reconsider; you always bought the nicest presents, I can confirm."

"Not just that; she brought her aunt along, too." He shook his head. "She has good taste, or so Sachi says. But, before we ever reached the jeweler's, Chizuru saw something she'd like to get her—it's Sachi's birthday, after all. And now here I am, waiting for them to come out..." he nodded to the place the store was supposed to be, from the other side. "And they are taking forever; but it was just a coat."

"Like you don't know how those things go; why don't you try this lovely dress, too—it'll go better with the coat, just so you can have a better image in your head—and before you know it, you're buying two pairs of pants and a dress." He nodded, morosely. "Or maybe they are out already and you missed them?"

"Nah; I hate Sachi seeing me smoke. Chizuru knows where to find me. At least, she'd look around."

"I see." A pause. "Though I never did appreciate you smoking, too."

"Well, it's a thing." Her stare was reprimanding. "It's a thing and it isn't going away."

"...I suppose..." A smile. "So, next stop it's the jewelry shop?"

"Suzuki's."

"Ah, that always had the best wares; that's where I got the ring from."

She snickered at his clipped "I remember."

"Well, if I'm not being too forward, do you mind if I came with you? I'm looking for a wristwatch, my old one died and the one I have left is too nice to wear daily."

"Not at all," he shrugged "more opinions for her little highness."

He never managed to smoke that cigarette; they just walked back at the front of the shop, to that same bench. As they sat there, an awkward silence spread between them, buzzing. Well, it made sense; there were so many things he wanted to ask her. He kept stealing glances at her, making sure she was still there, next to him. It was surreal. He hadn't seen her for such a long time...!

"If you don't mind my asking," she started at the hundredth time she caught his eyes "why did you separate with...what's her name?"

"Yaso." His eyes slid to her. "Want my version or hers?"

"I'm asking you, aren't I?"

He sighed, joking mood dying. "We clearly rushed into it; it was an immature decision that ended equally immaturely." _When_ she motioned with her hand; he looked away. "We married something less than five years ago; divorced three years later."

It was a good thing he wasn't looking at her, because he missed her shock because ouch; it was barely a year after she'd left—if she didn't know him any better, she'd say she mattered very little to him. But, knowing how his brain worked, this was most him reacting to the fact she left. If they didn't work out, that they'd been together for so long then maybe not being too long together would work. Only it didn't. Naturally.

"2017 was a tough year for Japan's national average; my sister got divorced then, too!"

"What? Really? Tsuki—that Tsuki?" Tokio nodded, sadly. "What happened?"

"Prince charming wasn't all that charming after all, just like I warned her, but she didn't listen." Tokio shrugged. "And now there's a child in the middle of all of that."

"Thankfully, there was no child in my divorce."

"That's a relief."

Just then, his eye caught his niece, coming to the door. "That's them."

"That's your niece?" He nodded. "Awwwww, she's so cute! Look at those pigtails, oh my god." He smiled. "And her little dress, she's so adorable."

"She is; and she leads everyone around by the nose."

She laughed. "I bet!" Just as the door opened and out walked the two desired people, Tokio sprang to her feet. "Hello!" She looked at both aunt and niece, who, the latter was about to fall over from the sheer weight of the bags she insisted on carrying. If fact, Tokio's salute stopped their argument. "My name is Takagi Tokio, I'm a friend of your uncle's." Then she actually bent her legs low, reaching the girl's height. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Yuzuu Sachi, hello."

"What a big, strong girl you are," she complimented, "carrying both bags on your own. Aren't they heavy?"

"I can do it!"

She almost stumbled though; her aunt sighed annoyed. "Maybe you should give them to me anyway."

"No; they are mine." the girl stubbornly refused, clutching them close.

Tokio knew exactly what to do. "Sachi, doesn't aunt love you very much?"

"Yes..."

"So, when she says she wants the bags, do you think she wants them for herself or to help you?"

"...help me."

"Is aunt taller than you?"

"Yes."

"So, if aunt, who loves you very, very much, and is taller than you wants to holds your bags to help you...what should you do?"

"B...but I can carry them on my own..."

"And if you were alone, you should! See? I'm carrying my own bags. But you aren't alone; you're with family. Let them help you, yes?"

"...yes." Sachi looked up at her aunt, still a little possessive of her presents. "Here, Chizuru-nee-san."

"Thank you sweetie."

Still, instead of her aunt, it was her uncle that took them. He actually pried Tokio's bags out of her hands, too. "I'm taller," was all he told his niece and Sachi giggled.

Tokio, being polite, looked up, to see a familiar face, finally standing. "Hello, Chizuru-san; long time no see." To her wondered look, Tokio chuckled. "You're Hoshi's sister, right?"

"You do look kind of familiar, too; I definitely heard your name before. Where did we meet?"

"At your brother's wedding for sure, but I think—"

"Oh! Aren't you—weren't you-?" She pointed at Hajime and her and then both at the same time with both hands, and Tokio simply nodded. "I remember you now! Wow, what are you doing here? You're back or something? You look great! Though you did put on a little weight."

"Thanks," she said between the disbelieving chuckles "at least you remembered me."

"Sorry, but we never call you Tokio, so it took a while."

A smirk came to her lips. "What _do_ you call me?"

Hajime was too preoccupied talking to his niece to pay proper mind to them, but even he didn't miss that; ears twitching, he snapped at attention. "What are you two talking about?"

"They all call you _the-one-who-got-away_ ; or To-chan."

Just as Saitou was ready to intervene, Tokio burst out laughing. "It could be worse, I guess."

"Enough out of the both of you," Saitou put an end to it; jutting out his chin to his niece, the small girl correctly interpreted it to go grab her aunt's hand...but, Sachi didn't take only Chizuru's hand, no. She took Tokio's, too and they started walking with Saitou on the left, then Tokio, then Chizuru with the little girl between them.

"Child whisperer," Chizuru breathed impressed.

Tokio shrugged. "I practiced with my nephew" she stopped speaking loudly and mouthed; "he stays with his mom and he's all the more protective of her—we're working very hard to help him expel his hostility towards his father," in an effort not to have the child hear it. "So," she turned to the little girl now "what kind of presents did aunt get you?"

Her little chest swelled and she bounced on her two little feet. "She bought me a coat! It's very long and it's soft and warm and I really want to wear it! But they said not now, it's for later. So I have to wait until it snows."

She frowned but that disappeared immediately when her aunt urged "why don't you tell her what colour it was?"

"It was red and black and it had very deep pockets! Then Chizuru-nee-san said she should buy me something to match the coat, so she bought me a black dress! It had white stripes on it going like this" she gesticulated wildly "and frill at the bottom, it was very pretty! That, too was for later though."

"Plaid dress with tulle at the bottom," Chizuru explained.

"Aw, that sounds wonderful, Sachi! Did you thank aunt for the gifts?"

"Yes, I did!"

"What a good girl."

All the way to the their destination and even inside the shop, went something like that; Saitou couldn't help the yearning he felt to his very core, watching Tokio make idle small talk with the little girl. He couldn't keep his eyes off of them, too. On one hand, it was all too much; this is what he gave up on. This is what he allowed to slip right through his fingers, six years ago. At the same time, he still blamed her, too, but nearly as much as he did when she left. He learnt his lesson. He needed to own up to his own mistakes. And she never denied her part in it. As time went by, he felt like he was the one who ruined everything, with his stubbornness.

Maybe he felt that, too, but it was far too painful to admit it; now, not so much. Because now she was standing right in front of him.

Chizuru was another issue. She was younger than them, barely 23, and she was seeing everything. Quite sharp that girl. And all she did was smirk, smile, or comment on things; some of those things though, hit a little too close to home. Tokio, as always, laughed along, answered her honestly or gracefully ignored her, but he couldn't; each and every thing put him on high alert and when the time came for him to pay for his purchase, he was almost worried to leave them alone. It was a good think Suzuki himself wasn't there, otherwise, this would have gone far more awkwardly.

Just as Tokio was about to look at wristwatches, little Sachi felt the urgent need to go to the bathroom. "I'll take her; meet you at the left corner when we're all done," Chizuru excused herself and her niece and left the store.

"What are you looking for, miss?" the polite woman at the register inquired.

"I'm looking for something elegant, but too quiet; silver or rose gold. Preferred silver. I don't mind it being big, but I definitely want functions, too, other than a stopwatch. It will be for every-day use, so I want it sensible and sturdy."

"You're looking for something expensive, I'm afraid."

Her smile was knowing. "I've looked at a thousand wristwatches so far, so I know my price-range. It's okay. I didn't come to bargain...too much." The two women smiled at one another. "I am a fan of Citizen; not Seiko. And...oh this is nice. That one, too. You know, that's not too flashy either."

Watching her look at the exhibition pieces, and the woman dutifully plugging them out of the case to put them on her wrist to decided, he remembered the second to last time he visited. He hadn't been in here for five years, after all. Last time he came, it was to return something...the same something he purchased six years ago.

He was with Suzuki himself; he'd made a point to visit when the man said he'd be back from his latest business trip. He had come alone, but he'd need his help—Tokio bought much of her jewelry here and almost always it was him that served her. He certainly knew her taste. Saitou did, too but a little help would not hurt.

He was standing two metres to the left from where Tokio was standing now; Suzuki bent over the counter with him, they were looking at five fifteen-by-ten cushioned cases that hosted rings. Some were grand, some were tempered, but they were all special. They were all so special in fact, it took them more than an hour and a half to decided on the perfect one. It wasn't that they hadn't found their four candidates, it was that they changed their mind about the right one every five minutes. When Suzuki's daughter saw them struggling, she had come over and ruined it all because she picked the one out of the four they thought less of. Because the owner was thorough at his job, but also because Tokio was one of his favourite customers, he didn't rush any bit of it, too so once a choice was made, they had to think of everything twice. And when that choice changed, they would do the same with the new one; and again and again, until they settled on the one Saitou insisted on.

"After all, it's you she's marrying; it should be on your taste she gets thrilled or disappointed," the man had said, finally folding, and getting the ring ready. Secretly, he had told him when he returned it, he was insisting just so Saitou could be more confident in his choice and both of those were perfect, but it was also fun to see him torture himself so much over such small details. It meant he truly cared.

The fact he had to return it, Suzuki had said, was very unfortunate. But Saitou hadn't had the heart to admit he never went through with it. He had chickened out and never asked. On the day he was supposed to do it, she announced this job of hers and how she wanted to take it and g _o to freaking France_ , that he froze. It never left his lips—or the ring his pocket. Would she have stayed, if he had? He didn't know; and that was what angered him the most. He'd been a coward that one moment he should have been brave and now he'll _never_ know. Maybe that was why he rushed into things with Yaso—he held himself back once, he shouldn't twice. But he'd been with Tokio for four years prior to him popping the question; Yaso he knew for a year and a half, and he only thought of her as a woman for less than a year.

He didn't know what to do, so he proposed. Action is better than inaction; and he shouldn't have to regret a second missed chance, or so he'd told himself but it wasn't the same. That much he knew from the very first moment.

Honestly, he would go into criminals' dens on the regular back then—why couldn't he make a simple question when it actually mattered? He knew why, actually; because arresting criminals and getting shot at wasn't as much of an emotional stake as betting your happiness for the rest of your life on a person; a person who seemed a little too willing to walk away from him.

He sighed. What was the point now? He'd lost his chance then, it wasn't coming back. But she did. So he should focus on what he could gain from now on, instead.

"What do you think Hajime? Left or right?"

They had come down to two: a smaller, but silver wristwatch with a perfect blue for the dial and a rose gold one, bigger, with a black dial. Both were quite impressive, actually, he liked them. He considered. "Which one matches most of your clothes?"

"Both can be worn with virtually everything," the assistant told him.

"What colour is the one you have left?"

"Silver."

"Then take the right; variety is good."

"Huh. That's...actually good advice." Her smile was teasing. "How in character." He shook his head and she graced him with one of her warmer smiles; those he used to go through hours and hours of paperwork, training, missions for. "It's decided; I'll take the right one. Please ring me up!"

They left the store a minute later, with her wearing the watch proudly on her right arm. They went to the meeting point, but the other two weren't there yet. "Say, don't you have to be to work today?" she only realised it was around two o'clock.

"I'm graveyard shift the entire month," her oooof, was immediate; he waved her away. "No, I asked for it; need the mornings of this and next week free: gifts to buy, arrangements to make, suits to look at...and then I asked for three consecutive days off to top it all off and they said, fine, but you're taking the entire month, not just these two weeks. Small price to pay."

Her amused suspicion was clear in the way her eyebrows wiggled. "What's gonna happen in two weeks that you need three days off?"

He actually smiled at her then; if he was any more expressive with his feelings he would have rubbed his hands together. "Okita is getting married." Her mouth hang. "And, naturally, I'm the best man."

"Oh my god...are you serious?"

The fact she became misty eyed so fast, warmed his heart. She still cared. She really wasn't all that different, like he feared she'd be after such a long time.

"I'm so happy for him." Her hand had settled on her chest, taking deep breaths. "Does she deserve him? Does he deserve her?" He nodded instantly, with fervor. Her smile could not be contained as well as some stray tears and her hands came around him once more, feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so happy for him. He deserves the best; it's so good to know he finally found what he was looking for. I always worried about him, you know." She let go. "He was always too giving and his relationships so fleeting, but—...I'm at ease. Congratulations to him. Congratulations to you, too—I can't imagine anyone else as his best man to be honest." Her watery laugh was very muted, looking away. "Ah, Souji is finally settling down, amazing. God, I want to see him again, congratulate him in person. I kind of want to meet his fiance, too."

He shrugged. "So do it; call him." Her smile became modest, moisture vanishing, but hesitant. "You said you're back for good, right? Well, _he_ definitely won't be going anywhere." Some hope returned to that. "Do you want me to call him right now? We can arrange it, make sure Elena is there, too."

"Oh, she's a foreigner?"

"Yes...and no. She's from the states but she's been here since she's five."

"I get it; yeah, please! Call him! But not now; wait until I'm gone. I'm too nervous. Just call me later to tell me what he said."

Yes; a chance. A smirk formed and he leaned towards her. "I'd be more than happy to, but I don't have any contact information of yours." She turned red. "Unless you can read smoke signals."

He earned a good slap on the shoulder for that, but it was worth it, because now she was already looking through her purse for her cell phone. "Give me your number, smartass." He spoke the digits and she called; when it rang, she gave him a dangerous look. "Give me your email, too, I'll text you."

"It's the same."

"Ah, perfect."

He smirked; she didn't ask for it, she still had it. She changed her device, but transferred his email to the new one. Six years and she still had it. How could he not smile at that.

"Anyway, if he says yes, I can meet whenever, so you guys speak with Elena and figure out a good time, alright? Now, I'll wait for your niece to come back again and I'm leaving. Mom'll throw a fit if I don't call her soon enough."

"Why?"

"...she grew a little attached, ever since I left."

He snorted. "I don't blame her."

" _You_ wouldn't," she snapped back, rolling her eyes, but he seemed to take that as a compliment. He and her mother always saw eye to eye to these things, no coincidence she was his biggest ally throughout his entire relationship with her daughter.

After that, conversation dwindled; wasn't too long that Sachi came running towards them, letting go of her aunt's hand, to grab her uncle's leg. It was too adorable for Tokio to handle, who simply walked to her, kissed her little cheek goodbye and told them she was leaving. The little girl thought it was safe for her to do the same, and pecked Tokio's cheek. She earned herself a rub of her head for it and then, Tokio was walking away. The way she kept looking back, until she took a turn, put a smile on his face. She was back. He was...excited.

Taking his niece's hand, he couldn't help the rush of adrenaline at the thought of relaying all of these to Okita, when they'd meet for their shift. He was going to flip.

"Is this really Takagi Tokio I'm seeing right in front of my very eyes? The same Takagi Tokio who left six years ago?"

"Souji!"

He opened his arms wide, a thrilled expression on his face, as Tokio actually ran the remaining two metres and crushed into him. He trapped her in a tight embrace and squeezed, almost lifting her off the ground. Hajime, standing somewhere next to his friend, shook his head, but secretly enjoyed it. Seeing Okita being so open with her, despite the misgivings he confided in him when he told him, was very important.

"It's been so long, welcome back," he started, slowly letting go of her "how have you been? You look great! The big unknown outside did you a lot of good."

She laughed. "So-so, I'd say; it's been too long. So long, you're getting married!" She hit his arm with the back of her palm. "You dog; and here I thought I'd have to make space for you up on my shelf."

"Hey!"

"You know I'm joking, I'm joking," she raised her arms defensively "let's go sit somewhere, tell me all about it. About her, too—where is she?"

Tokio looked around the not-so-busy street but saw no one that would indicate any other than Japanese heritage or descent. And Hajime had said she was from the states, she only grew up here.

"She'll be coming shortly; told me to text her when we sit—she ran a little late with her doctor."

Her chest swelled. "Are you guys pregnant?"

"No, no," he calmed her down "it's just a regular check up."

"Let's just go find a place..." Saitou complained, but both glared.

"You brought us here, didn't you?" Tokio commented, clicking her tongue. "There's no way you weren't thinking of Dionysus for lunch, so let's just go there."

"You are so boring, Saitou," Okita teased "six years she's been away and she still knows exactly what you're thinking. You didn't grow one bit..."

But that tease meant much more than it let on; the way Saitou bit his tongue and looked away, or Tokio changed ten colours, he knew they realised what he was getting at. Okita shook his head. How ridiculous; when they first met, it was him that urged them to ask each other out. And now, eleven years later, it looks like he's gonna have to do it again. Although, now, the conditions were a little more favorable: after everything that happened, he bet Saitou would beg for another chance at it with her. It only remained to be seen what she'd decide.

As they walked to Dionysus, Okita and Tokio with arms linked, they engaged in small talk; it was all the everyday stuff she hadn't heard for so long and she lent a very careful ear. Okita was, per usual, a very good friend. He was being extra descriptive, sharing stories that included Saitou, too—each and every one. What they did, what they ate, what had happened with this prisoner, that case...even after they sat, he didn't stop; she couldn't help but steal glances at Saitou, who couldn't look more annoyed yet satisfied.

Tokio shook her head; neither had changed one bit. How amusing.

"Ah, Elena just texted me she's here; I'll go bring her in."

"Mighty attached he is," she commented with a sly grin on her face the moment he was running to the door "to go bring her in...but that may be a good sign."

When the door opened, a second later though, Tokio felt like a complete idiot; she watched as Okita opened the door, came inside and held it next to him as a woman in a wheelchair rolled in. Her smirk fell and she tried very hard not to seem too guilty as she slid her eyes to Saitou, smile turning polite.

"Why didn't you tell me about this? I will _end_ you," she whispered, moving her lips as less as possible "what if I had said that in front of him?"

"Oh please," he waved her away and she noticed he didn't stand, as he usually did when someone new came to the table, simply sat straighter in his chair and turned towards the newcomer. "Elena, nice to see you again," he gave a small nod and the woman beamed.

She was a beautiful, buxom woman of Hispanic descend; she had expressive brown eyes, piercing Tokio, trying to judge her reaction. Her smile was wide and equally polite as hers. It looked like she was an open person, much like Okita, who wore her sentiments on her sleeve: Tokio could feel the defensiveness as well as the willingness to make a new friend. Although, she really had no idea how to behave; should she stand? Should she remain seated like Hajime? But he had met her before, Tokio hadn't. Almost buzzing, she decided to stand and offer her hand to the woman.

"Hello, my name is Takagi Tokio; I am very happy to meet you."

When she shook it with as much enthusiasm as Tokio spoke to her, the tension lifted significantly. "Hello Tokio, I'm Withers Elena. I'm excited to be able to finally meet you, too."

"Oh no," Tokio lamented, glaring at Okita as she sat back down again when he pulled a chair aside and pushed Elena into place "you've heard about me. I fear to ask what that may be."

Her laugh was immediate and very graceful; Tokio always felt jealous of women who managed to sound cute when laughing—she sounded like a damn troll. "No, no, don't be; I promise you it was nothing terrible." When her eyes slid to Elena's future husband in doubt, she laughed some more. "My dear is very fair," she gloated and took his hand in hers "nothing I ever heard was bad; just honest."

"Shit."

Some laughing continued, some didn't; after a while, once Tokio got over her anxiety on not knowing how to treat a person who was confined to a wheelchair – the answer was "the same, you idiot" with the exception of being aware she would need some special treatment for practical purposes –, everything went smoothly. In fact, Elena took a liking to her and even invited her to the wedding before Okita did – Tokio considered that a personal win and wouldn't stop bragging about it later, to anyone who asked – although, he had another type of suggestion to make.

"Tokio-chan, do you have a date for the wedding?"

"No," the "duh" was implied.

"Okay, real talk, Hajime is the best man and he doesn't have one either; why don't you come together and spare him the shame of coming alone?"

Elena's eyebrows shot very high in her fringe at her soon-to-be husband's spiel; if looks could kill, Saitou would have murdered him about five times, too but Tokio was the one surprised the most by his shamelessness.

"Sweetie," her tone dripped poison "that is not something _you_ get to say."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with anyone going to any event alone," Tokio stated then, a little defensively.

"Besides, if I wanted to ask her to come with me, maybe I would; on my own."

"Damn, okay, sorry, I get it; I said something stupid."

"Very," they all chorused and Okita gave up, throwing his hands in the air.

"Well whatever; I was only trying to—"

"—be impertinent," his wife-to-be finished for him, making it crystal clear there isn't any more conversation to be had about this topic. Pouting, he accepted his fate when everyone else's challenging glare was directed at him.

But Okita was smart; the seed was planted. Once Elena and Okita waved goodbye and left the two of them alone, and although they stayed for a while after that and the subject had changed a thousand times, how curious, Hajime went right back to it.

"I'm sorry about him, he hasn't grown at all," he opted to start with a blanket statement, to seem less eager. When she smiled and shrugged, he took a bracing breath. "But he wasn't that far off; I wouldn't mind going alone, but I'd rather go with you."

Her eyes darted to him; she never turned her head, but her eyes were there. "And you were panning on asking me anyway but he beat you to it?"

He clicked his tongue. "I don't like a crowd."

"That I do know," she conceded and finally chuckled. "I'd love to go with you," she gave him her answer. "But I have one request: I'll come with you to the fittings."

"What fittings?"

She blinked. "For the suit you'll be wearing; you're the best man, right? Aren't you getting a new suit for the wedding?"

"Ah, those fittings," he decided to stop teasing because the alarm in her voice only grew by the word "yes, why not?"

"Have you already picked a suit?"

"No."

"Perfect; we'll pick one together." When he tried to look offended at the notion he needed help for something so basic, she put her palm up, flat. "You were never, ever any good at picking out formal clothes. Ever," she emphasized for maximum impact and he kept his mouth closed. "Just make sure that happens soon though, because I have to choose a dress, too."

"Oh?"

"I can't just pick one from mine; it has to be the perfect match, otherwise what's the point? It's Souji's wedding; we go all out." He nodded, agreeing. Those were his sentiments exactly. "Besides, you'll be the best man;" she nudged him with her elbow "everyone will be looking at your date."

"Who, apparently, wants to impress."

"Can't have people saying I fall short, right?"

"You mean shorter? I mean, even Okita is taller than you."

"Oh hush."

For the very first time in her life, Tokio was part of a wedding from the groom's side. When her brother had gotten married she was still in University, so no one asked her to do anything so she was nearly as immersed as in this one; go to fittings, order drinks, help make some arrangements for the venue, sort out wrinkles in their coworkers' schedules, she helped with everything. Some things only she could arrange, seeing both of them went to work during the nights.

No matter, time flew by in a blink and before she knew it, it was Okita's big day. She barely had time to pick out her dress and accessories, if she was being honest—she almost rushed it. But she did feel like she had a duty towards them both, to look her absolute best. And that day, despite the wedding taking place at twelve, they were all up and about at around six, or at least that's when Saitou texted her.

She could only imagine the mess at the couple's house and the in-laws milling about, but she could very clearly see the disorganisation at the church they had picked – that she'd arrived at three hours earlier, per Saitou's request –: the two future mother in laws were all demands and orders that contradicted one another; Elena's father was almost hysterical, while Okita's just sat at a corner, trying to get through the day without crying every five minutes for his son's happiness. She was making an effort, a real effort, to calm the men down and keep the two women in check. Tokio handed each one of them a list with tasks that she felt would suit most each woman's character and split them up and directed them two different ways. Hopefully, that would stop them from giving conflicting directions to the staff.

Of course, seeing this would be a catholic wedding, as Elena was deeply spiritual while Okita didn't really care and just went along with it, all the guests who didn't know of the customs, were given a crush-course by Henrietta, Elena's mother. Then, the minister arrived. Somewhere then, and once everything was under control, she texted Saitou to bring Okita there.

It was a tradition the groom went a little early and the bride a little late, one that Henrietta impressed upon her must be kept, so she did her best not to disappoint anyone. Given Okita's mom was of the opinion he should suffer for not putting his foot down and having a traditional Japanese wedding – as she wanted – then he should wait three hours for all she cared. Tokio, shrugging, merely did as she thought best for all.

Around eleven thirty, she saw Saitou's car pull up outside; there the groom was, in the company of his best man, who was driving, and his friends and colleagues, Nagakura, Harada and Toudou. If she wasn't seeing things, she must have spotted their superiors in the guests, too, Hijikata and Kondou with their dates. She knew them, but didn't have the heart to say anything, not without Hajime there. But once they showed up, he saw them stand out from the crowd and head to the groom, who was literally, positively, beaming.

Heh; to see the day Okita would be so much in love, she was so happy for him.

Naturally, this was more of a men's kind of thing, so, despite Saitou coming to her for maybe a minute to thank and talk to her for everything, she was again left alone with the couple's parents and the rest of the preparations. She started to feel like Okita thrust her into this just so he didn't have to pay for a wedding planner at some point...but watching the anxiety as well as bliss on his face, the moment they heard the horn of the bride's car, was all but worth it.

The bride didn't stop though, no; she circled once, then twice then three times the block; she stopped the fourth time and eventually was led out of the car. That's when her father calmed down completely. Seeing his daughter, in all of her beauty and glory, as she sat there in her wedding dress gave him a breath of fresh air. Tearing up, he stopped whatever he was doing and, after Diego, his son, helped Elena out of the car, he went to her side. He offered her his hand and they went all the way down the isle hand in hand, with Diego pushing the wheelchair.

Once the bride made her entrance, everyone went to their places: Saitou, holding on to the rings, was standing a good metre to the side of the groom; Nagakura, Hijikata and Toudou were sanding next to him. On the bride's side, there was a head bridesmaid standing a good metre to the side from Elena and three more women she had no idea who they were. If not for the fact she had traveled so much she would not have known this was just a catholic wedding and she would have been at a loss. But she did. And when three women came and sat next to her, sly grins on their faces, if she hadn't been informed these were the groomsmen dates, she would have panicked a little because other than Nagakura's wife, whom she'd met as his girlfriend six years ago, she knew none other.

After the vows were exchanged, they had their first kiss as a married couple; just like that, the ceremony was over. Elated, Okita hugged his best man, and then proceeded to jump in his bride's lap! The crowd laughed. Giving her a bigger, but just as fleeting kiss, he gave the command to be escorted out, and Diego, shaking his head with a smile, obliged.

And just like that, they transitioned to the reception.

Ah, the reception; that was an even bigger chaos. People she never met before, for the most part, went here and there exchanging pleasantries, talking, wishing, gossiping; Tokio saw Hajime once at the beginning, when he explained to her she was going to sit with him at the groom's table when the time came, and then once again when he reappeared to whisk her away for photographs. Apparently, there was going to be a whole shoot and the groomsmen and bridesmaids' dates were needed for a small potion of it. Then it was the group photo and then they returned.

After that, he informed her she was going to stand alone for a little while longer before the wedding couple made an entrance and then they could finally sit. Shrugging, she accepted, nursing a drink. That's when Nagakura's wife found her again.

"I really do love your dress," she commented "it suits you so well."

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding," Tokio said in return "but I can tell you're happy together. Still, I'd have loved to see you in that kimono; heard it was a traditional one, right?"

She nodded. "Me, too; your gifts were the best."

They shared a chuckle. "But, you know, I'd have loved to have had you there, too. You helped today, I saw." Tokio nodded, modest. "That must be the best gift of all," she shared and she had to smile at the woman's desperation. Who knew how hectic her own wedding was.

"I can still get you an actual gift though," she mused aloud "I saw an urn, very unique." Sakura's eyes almost sparkled. "I know, you'd have loved it."

"To be honest, I—...oh."

"What is it?"

Sakura's looked down and to the side, she turned her body towards her interlocutor. "Don't stare, but the woman approaching us right now, is Yaso." Tokio's eyebrows shot very high. "She's kind of a colleague but most importantly, sort of the reason Okita and Elena met, so he had to invite her. Said it would definitely be bad luck not to."

Tokio nodded she understood.

"Just act natural;" Sakura shrugged as casually as she could "she'll leave soon and it'll all be over." She seemed thoughtful then. "She already found herself a new fiance, so I feel she won't be too bitter."

Once Yaso was within earshot, Sakura pretended to just spot her; pleasantly surprised, waved with her champagne hand; the newcomer, her own champagne in her hand, put on a huge smile, and came close.

"Hello Yaso, long time no see."

"Hello, Sakura; indeed. And you must be Tokio, yes? I am Yaso, I'm very pleased to finally meet you." without a shred of hesitation, she offered her hand, as if practiced, and Tokio shook it readily. "I was really wondering if I should bow or give you a handshake," she quipped then, all smiles "but I see I made the right choice; being abroad for so long must have changed your habits completely."

Did that sound like...something just now? A quick look at Sakura and the way she tensed, told her all she needed to know. Putting on her best coy smile, she shrugged. "No, not too much; I think it helped that I found most things just like I left them, breeds a sense of familiarity."

"Right..."

Seeing her attempt at making her uncomfortable did not work, Yaso tried to think of something else to say. "You know," she started "I did always wonder what you were or looked like; Hajime never really kept any pictures of you...I thought you'd be taller."

Sakura's eyes widened; she almost chocked on her drink. What kind of thing was that to say—was she serious? And yet, for some unfathomable reason, Tokio kept her cool about it, even had the nerve to chuckle.

"Why would he? Didn't you guys get married?"

"Oh, so he told you we were married."

"You know Hajime, he hates keeping secrets; besides, what's so scandalous about it that he shouldn't?"

But Yaso simply snorted, quite emphatically. " _Hajime?_ He's the best at keeping secrets, what are you talking about?"

Tokio blinked. "Did, did you not hear me? I said he hates _keeping_ secrets; not that he can't. At least," at that she became a little awkward "with all due respect and I mean nothing by it, he always hated keeping secrets when we were together."

"Ah," her eyes turned cold; her tone frigid "I see."

"Besides, why would you want to know what I was like? Why did you care about your husband's ex? That's ridiculous."

"You ask me that?" She seemed a little offended; Tokio became confused. "You have the gall to ask me something like that?"

"Pardon?"

She looked at Sakura in a what-did-I-do-wrong kind of way; Sakura tried not to sigh too much.

"You do realise that, although you were never physically there, for the entirety of our relationship and then marriage your presence was always looming somewhere there, where I could never reach? For four, long, torturous years of my life, I was constantly compared to and competed with you, even in your absence. I resented you and didn't even know what you looked like."

Something snapped; Tokio heard that little sound in her head that signified she would tolerate no more bullshit today. Even if Yaso was taller, the way she took her breath and concentrated all of her thoughts made both women lean slightly back.

"And that's my fault _how_ exactly? You yourself said it: I wasn't even around, I was in Europe; last time I even attempted to contact Hajime was before he ever met you and he never answered his phone anyway. How is **this** my fault, too? What else are people going to blame me for?"

She exhaled, upset, shaking her head not having the patience to deal with this. "Besides, if you felt constantly compared to me before you married him, why did you go through with it on the first place?" she actually raised her hands, palms flat against the sky, instead of grabbing Yaso and just shaking her as she would have wanted. "You know what, that's none of my business; it really isn't. Neither is it my problem, though. If you feel like blaming someone, blame Hajime; and yourself. But leave me out of it—I have absolutely nothing to do with it."

Yaso cackled maliciously "You have everything to do with it; if it weren't for you—"

"What? You'd have never divorced, is that what you are going to accuse me of?" Tokio's eyes became dangerous. "Fist of all, to think so little of yourself and Hajime's feelings, is stupid; secondly, to think if I hadn't left him like that he would have been able to get over me, is even more moronic, because guess what, sweetie: if I hadn't left for Europe, we wouldn't have broken up. You'd have never even dated, not married him. Besides, you're the one who had the ring on her finger, why are you being like this to me? He knew you for half a year and proposed; we were together for four years and he never even mentioned it; if anything, I should be feeling a little slighted, not you. But I don't, because I understand how different people elicit different reactions or sentiments. Why don't you?"

Yaso seemed taken aback at her willingness to fight; she was under the impression Tokio would easily fold, try to appease her, or at least try not to make a scene. Nothing of those things happened. The hell was Saitou going on and on about then? It made Yaso think Tokio was this submissive creature who put up with him at all times and Hajime's problem with her was that she was feisty and unbending. But Tokio didn't seem the type, definitely. And everyone did say how Tokio hadn't changed one bit...

...who, seeing she wasn't getting through the way she wanted, simply shook her head. "I don't know what people told you or what you were able to piece together from things you've heard, but I don't quite care, too. So, if all you came here to say is...this, then consider you got it off your chest and leave. I'm here to be happy for my friend, with my friend and I care none for the accusations you're making."

"...you don't mince your words, Tokio-san," Yaso observed, conflicted. When she simply shrugged in response, all three women looked at one another. "If I may ask, why did you leave Japan for?"

"I'd been looking for a certain position for a long time; when I finally found it, it just so happened to be in UK."

"So you left him."

"Not that I have to justify myself to anyone, but I didn't just _leave_ ; I asked him to come with me. He refused. Well, I knew he was going to, which is why I told him we could always try a long distance relationship, but he simply scoffed at me. Said I was either staying or leaving, no in-between. But I...don't like ultimatums. So, I left. I pursued my career. I came back. End of story."

"Are you serious?" Yaso seemed scandalised, Sakura just as shocked. "You told him to keep in touch and he said _no_?" Tokio nodded. "WHY?"

"Because I had this ridiculous idea stuck in my head that she was only doing it for attention; it would blow over. She wouldn't really go..." All three women turned to the side of the dance floor in alarm; he smirked at their reactions. "But guess what." The way they looked at him, made him smile. "I think the exact moment I realised you weren't joking was after seeing you board the plane and only once it took off. I thought to myself, _shit. She did go; now what?_ "

Shaking her head, Tokio looked to the heavens for any sort of help, but none came; Sakura gave a nervous chuckle, but Yaso could have _killed_ him. "But she said she called you and you never answered," she snubbed "why didn't you pick up?"

"And tell her what? I'm sorry I didn't realise when you said you were leaving you were going to leave? She'd sooner come back for a couple of days just to kick my ass than accept my apologies."

"To be fair, I'd probably do both but if you'd dared tell me you didn't take me seriously back then, I'd have easily broken each and every plate in the house on your goddamn, hard head."

"I rest my case."

"What an idiot!"

"An idiot you were actually married to," Hajime reminded her, "so don't act too high and mighty."

"So what did you do, Tokio-san?" Sakura asked eager. "We know about him—he stupidly rushed into a wedding."

"I'm still standing right here," Yaso reminded, but Sakura waved her away.

"What do you mean?"

"Any drama on your side of the world?"

She laughed. "I don't like drama; I settled quietly at my new place of business and worked myself to the bone; I was one of the best in my field by the time I turned twenty four; a year later, I was the highest paid Asian. I never intended to stay there for a long time anyway, so I never concerned myself with men and relationships. Besides, I kept traveling, moving here and there—first it was UK, then it was Ireland, then France, then US, then back to Europe in Spain and finally Ireland, where I stayed until a month ago. Now, I'm back home." She smiled, nostalgic, looking to the west. "I missed my family; my friends; even _you_ , asshole."

He had no idea why that gave him so much satisfaction, but there it was. She almost hit him, seeing the expression on his face, but Yaso had the final word when she actually threw him her purse, right in the face.

"Hey."

"What an actual ass," she complained, snatching the thing back immediately "to think he so selfishly rejected a woman who loved him...and for her to come back and still feel the same way about him, how convenient. I'd have thrown him under a bus."

Speaking her last, she turned about and left; Sakura exhaled, looking to the side. "What an encounter."

"Lucky me," Tokio grumbled and glared at Hajime; he tried a peace offering, giving her his drink, and she greedily accepted it. "Asshole."

"You two must have a lot of catching up to do," Sakura only just realised, trying to find a way to get the hell out of there before she was caught in the crossfire—Tokio was literally buzzing. "I'm going to go now. Bye you two; see you later."

Once she was gone, too, no doubt headed to the groomsmen and their dates to share the scoop, they stood there in silence for some time. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was electric. Things left unsaid begged to be spoken; situations needed explaining. Saitou heard noise in his ears that had nothing to do with the people all around him, or the music on the speakers. Still, he could not help the smirk now stuck on his face from all the things he heard tonight. Taking a risk, he went closer; it was only a step, but his steps were significant. She noticed. She didn't hit him though, or turned away, which was a good thing.

"So," he begun after some deliberation "I am an idiot." Her glare was deadly, but approving so far. "What do we do about it?"

"What baffles me," she said instead, leaving his question unanswered "is that you refused, absolutely refused to so much entertain the thought of a long-distance relationship and yet, I am gone for six years, and here you are, divorced because your wife felt I overshadowed her. If you were going to mope around for as long as I was going to be away, what was the point even? What's wrong with you?"

"That's a long list," he quipped and she actually smiled "and we don't have enough time. But if you're asking why I was so stubborn back then," he shrugged "I was too young; and too proud. And I felt betrayed, maybe, that you'd so easily change continents, with no regard to me."

She shook her head; he shrugged again. "And we already established I was an idiot and didn't really comprehend you were _leaving_ until you left."

She sighed; his eyes on her became soft. "But that's all said and done; we can't change the past. We can only shape the future."

She said nothing, but a small smile did breakthrough; he was a little relieved at that. "Now let's go to our table; Okita texted me they're coming."

"Count your blessings," she teased, but not all that much and allowed him to guide her there.

Ten minutes later, the soft music playing, changed. A bombastic song, one she did not know, started blaring, and before long, the wedding couple came rolling down the carpeted way that lead from the entrance to the dance-floor. Instead of opting for the usual slow dance, though, the couple kept the song going, maybe had them play it on a loop, as Okita started twirling and dancing around Elena in her decorated wheelchair, spinning her around on an occasion or two and generally getting as wild as the instance would permit him.

When they had their fill, finally the ballads started playing; the couple toasted with everyone, shared one slow dance, with Okita actually picking Elena up from her chair for the duration of the song and keeping her in his arms – how he managed that, for such a long time, she did not know; Hajime, who was taller than everyone he or she knew he the strongest in the unit could maybe do that for as long – and then, they sat at their table.

Food was served immediately and people started gobbling it down. Before the dessert was served, Okita informed his friend he had to stand up and make the little speech they had told him about – "you better have prepared something," Toudou mouthed a little threateningly – and he dutifully did.

"Welcome everyone, to the celebration of this joyous occasion; I know maybe about one third of you, but welcome." Some laughs were heard. "But that makes perfect sense; I've known Souji over a decade and he makes friends with people very easily. I mean, just think it's _me_ who's making the speech." That elicited some very honest laughs from all around them. "I'm very difficult; and selfish; and I take up a lot of space at work, I've almost migrated to his desk. And yet, he never complains. He only makes one stupid joke after another, never judging...always supporting me. Whatever I need, he's ready to help."

He exhaled. "He's a great colleague and an even better friend; and I am certain, he's going to be even greater as a husband." The two men looked at one another; Okita was smiling like an idiot, eyes watery. "Elena," he turned to her "I think you are lucky to have him; but nearly as lucky as he is." She did tear up. "You've done nothing but urge him to be the best version of himself, ever since he met you, and I can tell, because I've known him forever. You maybe can't tell the difference because, when you first met, he definitely tried to impress you and all that," the way the bride and their friends laughed and Okita turned red made him smile "but I can; and I know he's been the happiest he's ever been these past three years. So," he raised his glass "my idiot partner who I hope he always stays his idiot self, I wish for him to cherish this moment; and cherish _you_ forever _._ " Elena, trying her hardest to not outright cry, nodded wildly, raising her glass. "For you, I wish you keep making him happy, even on those hard, unforgiving days when loving anyone seems impossible."

That seemed to resonate deep with the bride and Hijikata – of all people – who nodded in a very knowing way. "And to all the single people attending today, may you all find someone like either one of them: a person who at the end of the day, makes it all worth it."

All the shit they went through at work with their cases; all the looks and the whispers that he'd heard when these two had first started dating, either because of her wheelchair or her nationality; all the discontent from the parents who did not agree on religious grounds; all the everyday shit that they were already getting through together, since they'd been living together for half a year already. They could do it; Okita would succeed where he'd failed, he was certain.

"Salut!"

"Salut," everyone chorused back and for a long moment there was only drinking.

Then he proceeded to sit down; only then did he dare look at Tokio. She was...proud. Squeezing his knee once as she used to whenever she felt he needed encouragement but knew he wouldn't like any grand or small displays, she nodded once. Muscle memory worked and the tension washed off of him in waves.

"Look at that, you didn't botch it," Toudou immediately goaded him.

"I never said I was a bad public speaker; I just hate it."

"Besides, he wouldn't ruin this for Okita," Nagakura defended him, Sakura chuckling "he would have murdered him, right?"

"Elena would have first," Hijikata baited and the bride waved him away, still wiping away tears.

"Don't listen to them, Hajime-san, they are just jealous." A sniffle. "That was a great speech."

"Too good—did Tokio write it for you?"

She laughed. "Never would I ever welcome guests as "everyone" in any speech, so it's safe to say it was all him," she assured, taking a sip from her new champagne glass "and he did great."

"He did," Harada agreed "let's give him a break."

After a while, after the bride's emotions settled, they informed the wedding couple of the entire Yaso debacle. Although Sakura was very discreet about it, everyone else wasn't, using this as fodder to tease him relentlessly. Even if they all knew his ex-wife had come to the wedding with her current boyfriend, they still made a big deal out of it. Tokio had remained stone-faced and supposedly uncaring through it all, but she couldn't help but overhear everything, closely.

"Care for a dance?"

"...fine," she conceded once she left him hanging for a satisfactory amount of time, holding his gaze all the while; her ears prickled delightfully at the sound all around her after all and she was already in the mood to just stand from the table for whatever reason.

Once they were up there with the rest, they started swaying lightly to the slow but strong beat.

"I really do love this song," she mused "I don't think I've ever said no to anything while it's playing."

"I don't leave things to chance, Takagi," he teased "but I do take chances." He was standing a little too close for just a dance partner from the very beginning, and she had let him, but now he brought her closer, hands going from her sides to her middle. They rested on the small of her back. Again, she allowed it.

"I'm sorry for never checking in;" he said out of the blue; she looked up at him "I'm sorry I acted like you never existed, once you left. But that was only because you meant so much to me."

"Nice way of showing it..."

He sighed. "What else do you want me to say?"

She held his gaze; he did not shy away. "That you're sorry for all you put me through."

"I am."

"And that you were wrong."

"I was."

Finally, she relaxed; she put her head on his chest. "...then that's enough."

"Only if you say that you forgive me."

"Don't be too greedy," she mumbled.

"Say you forgive me."

"Even if I say it or even if I don't, what's the point? I already have..."

"So say it."

"Fine," she kept mumbling "I forgive you for being a monumental ass and hurting my feelings."

"Perfect." He kissed the top of her head—or at least whatever wasn't occupied by her hairdo.

"And _I'm_ sorry I made you feel like I was abandoning you...I could never really think of myself without you next to me, so I don't know how I gave that impression. But I'm sorry."

"I forgive you."

He wished they've had this conversation earlier, but then again, maybe they get to have it on the first place **because** of the distance; the negative aspects of their relationship, which weren't many, but did exist, felt non-existent. The good ones were magnified. And all ego had disappeared from both parties. They just kept idly dancing, her head on his chest and his hands around her waist. They were like that for some time, until a certain song started playing.

"Don't tell me this was your idea, too." She looked up at him a little, to watch his expression, but when he was just as surprised, she seemed amused. "I guess not." She settled back – never noticing how Saitou's eyes went to the groom who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up – and started humming along with the song; soon enough, he did, too.

"It's a heartache," she sang along with the chorus, still glued to his chest "nothing but a heartache; hits when you're too late; hits you when you're down..."

"I don't understand how we went from making fun of this song to liking it so much," he admitted; she chuckled.

"I know right; we picked too much on Bonnie Tyler that we felt bad about it I guess, and started enjoying it." She laughed. "But we did enjoy it."

"Yeah," he nodded "and Total eclipse of the heart, too."

She snorted. "Tell me about it. I wouldn't stop tearing up every time I heard it; it reminded me too much of y-..."

Only after she spoke them did she realise what words left her mouth and she actually froze mid-sway. She could feel the heat on her cheeks become insufferable, but at the same time, she really didn't want to tear herself away from his shirt because then he'd have to **look** at him and his smug face wasn't something she was prepared for.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Stop."

"Did I make you cry?"

"Shut up; you heard nothing."

"But I did."

"You didn't."

"It's just, you've been so calm about this whole affair these past two weeks now, it sounds shocking."

She did look up at him then, a little annoyed. "Oh really?" When his face was that shit-eating grin she feared, she had to try her hardest not to look away. "Then maybe that's payback for these six years you kept complete radio silence; if it weren't for Okita I wouldn't even know—..." she sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it hurt; **of course**. I didn't leave because we broke up. We broke up because I had to go. There was no grand goodbye, no fight to end all fights; you just stopped accepting my calls and my feelings. I still loved you. What do you expect me to do—be happy about it? And once I came to terms with the fact it was over, what did you expect me to do then? Announce to everyone how happily heartbroken I was? I tried getting over it, minimize the pain, and not thinking about it, helped." She shrugged. "I won't apologise for my deference mechanisms being effective."

"So what do we do now?"

This was the second time he had asked this; he had even let her talk her fill, obvious he didn't mind hearing it—quite the contrary. If she was still this touchy about this, despite appearances, it meant she still felt something; there was still hope. And it was no coincidence he spoke of the future before. But this was the second time she didn't answer; she simply shrugged, and looked away. "Let's go sit back down. Hopefully the baiting will have died down..." referring to his friends and colleagues who did their best to humble him in front of her, thinking it funny.

Only it hadn't. In fact, nothing died down; and seeing she was the best man's date, she couldn't leave before him and there was no way Saitou would allow her to go alone, so she was "doomed" to stay, basically, to the end of the celebration, even if she did feel her heels crushing her toes, or the dress digging into her skin uncomfortably. She still smiled and talked and joked with them all, even danced some more, with the groom, too who eagerly took her hand to twirl her around.

When last call was made, it was already half past three. Once the best man made all of the bridesmaids were safely with a friend or relative and the close friends in their cars, he put Okita in Elena's lap and helped her father put them both in his car.

"You'll take me to the train station, right?"

"Just get in the car, Takagi."

Thirty minutes and change later, his car pulled up in front of a very familiar destination. She pursed her lips, giving him a look. "I am very certain that's not the train station."

"Move, will you? It's too late."

He pulled on the break, first gear in and took the key out of the ignition; seeing he wasn't going to give her a straight answer for now, she simply followed him out, as he swung his door open. Looking at the apartment complex, she was almost speechless to how nothing had changed these past six years. Same colours, same problems, same homes having scraped off paint. As if she'd never left japan, Kyoto and her place of residence, she walked across the street and right to the front door; he produced his key and let them both in. Same walk to the elevator, same floor, same walk to the same door.

When she walked through the door, a sense of familiarity washed over her; this was the apartment they shared together, but not quite. The lay-out was the same but the composition a little different; things had moved from one side to the other, some furniture were new. But right in front of her was the living room, kitchen on the left and a small hallway that led to the rest of the rooms on the right. He still didn't close the damn window when he was away so the chill got to her.

She kicked off her shoes, and wandered deeper. She looked around, as discreetly as she could, but she couldn't help herself; the moment she spotted her favourite little coffee table, she had to go there. It was stashed in some corner where it wasn't easily seen when you entered but it was there. She pretended to be resting her feet against it, just so she could feel it—that little dent she'd made on it when one of Hajime's weight fell from her hands and hit the wooden surface. Heh, it was still there.

Once she made sure that was the case, she stretched and stood again. "This place hasn't changed too much."

He nodded. "I know; I have a ten-year lease on it. When I got married, my youngest cousin came over and stayed, he was studying nursing here. When I divorced, I came back; he stayed for maybe another year and once his studies were over, he went back home, to Tokyo."

"I see..."

"So you can still find your way around; go wash your face. I'll leave something for you to wear on the couch."

She nodded and went to the bathroom first; when she came out, he had indeed procured one of his shirts for her to wear and she had to laugh at how he didn't even leave a pair of shorts—it was that long, she didn't need it. By the time he had come out, she was in the bedroom, where she clearly remembered she had stashed all the linens and was happy to find they were still there. She pulled out a plain grey sheet and its matching pillowcase. It was still hot outside, so she didn't need anything other than a blanket and that was easy to find, but it turned out she had to rummage the closet for the spare pillow.

When he too was done with the bathroom, still in his suit, he walked in on her on her tiptoes, struggling to catch the spare pillow. He shook his head amused.

"Need help with that?"

"Yes, please."

He effortlessly took it down; she sighed. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Just to spite your guests for being shorter than you."

"I don't have any guests that dare enter my bedroom, so I'd say no."

Clicking her tongue, but secretly thankful for the verification of his single status, she strutted all the way to the spare bedroom, ready to make the bed. Saitou followed her, quite happy by the fact she so effortlessly waded through his house like she still lived there; standing by the door with one foot over the other, he watched her – and did not help one bit, the bastard – spread the sheet, iron the wrinkles out and then go from one side to the other, to put it under the mattress, to make sure it didn't go anywhere.

"All ready," she spoke more to herself than him, but he still responded.

"Care to make mine, too?" She threw him the pillow she was about to throw on the bed; he caught it with ease. "What? I'm tired; and you're better at it than I am."

"I'm tired, too."

"But look at how nicely you made this one."

"Fine, you slave-driver. Is this why you brought me here? To do chores? Was this your plan all along?"

Prompted by none other than herself, she started making all sorts of wild theories why he decided to bring her back home, one more far fetched than the other; they all made him smile but he still had to deny her claims.

"Why didn't you take me to the station then?" she finally demanded, standing to her full height. She had just applied the finishing touches, the fluffing of the pillows, and had a very superior look about her. He shook his head disapprovingly.

"And have you wait for the first train for two hours all on your own, in the middle of the night? I don't think so; not in _that_ dress" he gave a nod towards the living room where it lay, _that was too form-fitting, too sexy, too long yet not long enough; and so very appealing..._

"What's wrong with my dress?"

 _Everything_. "Nothing. But it will make men look." He side-glanced her, all meaning, as he undid his tie, vest already open. "I won't have strange men looking at you for two hours straight, in the middle of the night in that dress."

A smirk curled her lips; she loved it when he repeated himself, it meant it really ticked him off. "Thus you brought me here" she took a deliberate step close to him, hands tying in front of her chest "where other men can't look at me," her eyes captured his "or so only you could?"

He mirrored her expression, but not her stance; instead, he got rid of the tie altogether and undid the first couple of buttons that kept his shirt closed; he too went even closer and now she was within reach. "Do I have to choose?"

She nodded, slowly, never looking away; he looked down at her lips. She followed his eyes.

"Why can't it be both?"

His hands snaked around her middle; she put her hands on his chest. "Well, that..." she was now looking at his lips, too, couldn't concentrate on anything else; that and the pleasant sensation that ran down her spine as he embraced her. "That's greedy."

"So it is." He planted a fleeting kiss on her neck; she shivered. "So am I." Another followed; that one lingered. So did her shakes. "So what?"

"It's not fair..."

"I'm not fair, either."

He claimed her lips; she melted into the kiss with a sigh. It was so strange, but everything felt familiar but so, so different. She wanted nothing but to lose herself in his embrace just as she once did, when he followed the familiar paths of her body; at the same time, it felt like this was their first time all over again, with new excitement, and the feeling of not knowing what to do. And yet they both did. And after her hands slithered around his neck and then her foot tangled itself with his, he was all but gone. And that was it.

One kiss turned into a moment; a moment turned into momentum and before he could figure out why he was panting, she had pushed him back far enough for his feet to knock the bed. He shamelessly pivoted her and just as she wrapped her legs around him, he was throwing her on the bed. After that, he had not cared to keep track of what he did or she did or what was happening; all he cared was that it was bliss. This was what he missed; her touch, her attention. The feel of her hands on his back, a supportive squeeze, her voice; her. He missed her so much, it drove him insane. And he had been proud enough not to tell a soul; to allow her to slip through his fingers once.

But he wouldn't be making that same mistake twice.

So he held on to her tight, just as tight as she had held on to him, and loved her as much as he could. For all the time she would call and he wouldn't dare answer; he would look away, or decline her call; for all the months he was dying to know how she was doing but was too proud to ask and Okita had to swallow his pride and call her instead; for all the years he made her feel unwanted when all he wanted was her.

That night he slept better than any other. She was back; he was at ease.

Next morning when he woke up, an odd, familiar sensation ran down his spine, one he feared he'd never get to experience again: the joy of waking up next to someone you loved. She had curled up in a ball about half an arm away, always out of reach; she didn't like being touched when she slept, not unless she was cold. But he could hear her breathing there next to him, saw her soundly asleep. He took a tuft of hair between his fingers and rubbed it, as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When she actually stirred, he became certain.

"Mmm," she stretched, eyes still closed "g'morning..."

"Good morning," he gave the proper greeting "did you sleep well?" She nodded, to the best of her ability. "I can tell." She attempted to hit him, but sleepy as she was, her hand fell useless on the mattress next to him. "How did you manage to survive on your own when you can barely get out of bed if I don't make you something to drink is beyond me..."

"Shut up, I'm," a yawn "perfectly capable of getting up on my own." She blinked, finally opening her eyes. "Are you allergic to sleep? Why are the blinds never drawn? The sun is getting in my eyes."

"It's supposed to, so you don't oversleep."

She gave him a look. "You have the graveyard shift, right? Why d'you care?"

"Only for this month; then it's back to regular." She managed to roll her eyes, as hard as it was. "Tokio," he demanded her attention then "where do we go from here?"

"Ah," she lay her head back down, closing her eyes again "and here I was starting to worry; it only took you half a minute to reach this part." She couldn't see the glare, but that didn't mean she didn't know it was there; she chuckled anyway. "I think it's obvious we both have feelings for one another still, despite all, and—"

"Let's get married."

She burst out laughing. "Now why did I know that you were going to say something like that?"

"I'm serious."

He didn't sound upset, but he didn't seem playful either; she shook her head. "Let's _not_ get married; Hajime, no matter what, we've been apart for a very long time. We have six years worth of catching up to do. What if you decide I'm not what you expected in the end? What if I do? Let's just take it slow..."

"Meaning?"

"I'm currently looking for a house, but I don't want to rush it; it's going to be a life-time investment. But, instead of renting an apartment of my own, I'm staying with my mum; maybe I could, I dunno, move back in here with you? Pick up where we left from, kind of."

"That doesn't sound too bad," he decided and put his arms around her; he had been very honest in his proposal just now, but he knew she wasn't going to accept. He simply wanted to get it off his chest. "Move in with me, Tokio; today." She chuckled. "No, I mean it; today works best because it's the last of my leave and I can actually help. Besides, I doubt you have any more than suitcases of clothes for the most part; those are easy to move."

"You are not wrong; and all that's already worn I can easily pick up at a later time...yeah, okay, why not? After we have a hearty breakfast – I'm actually starving, it's ridiculous – we get dressed and go to my parents' house. Heh. They'll be happy to see _you_ again; especially mum."

He smiled; Tooka always had a soft spot for him. "Great. I'll get her those macaroons she loves, too."

"Ugh, no, don't; I haven't gotten her any ever since I came back. I'll never hear the end of it."

He shrugged. "Suffer."

"If I suffer, I'll make sure you'll suffer later," she threatened but he wasn't deterred; if anything, he only smirked wider, pecking her lips.

"Please, do; take your time and make me suffer as much as you want." He kissed her again and again until he had his fill; he rose first, as he always did, and headed to the bathroom. But before he did, he stood at the threshold. "Come to think of it, I'm out of milk; and bread; and eggs; and—"

"—we need to go shopping tomorrow and eat out today, I get it; just go already."

She didn't want to fall back into old habits so fast; she wanted to sear him, make him work for it, harder, much harder; she'd wanted to go back there and be strong and unmoving and austere, but the moment his lips touched that tender part of her neck, she was done. And this morning, just before she had drifted off yesterday night, she had promised to be colder than this, make him sweat. And yet, she was already making a mental grocery list. What a farce! It was all her fault; after all this time, and she still loved him like this. How stupid. Had she no ego?

Just then, she heard his voice, cautious, from the living room. "Tokio, was the dress you were wearing expensive?"

"Why?"

"I think I just ruined it."

Her eyes widened; she shot up from the bed in an instant and watched as Saitou held up the poor thing, almost torn in half. She gaped. "What did you do to it?"

"It had fallen on the floor; I picked it up. I hadn't noticed I had stepped on it."

Ouch; that hurt her to the core. That poor, cute dress...

"Sorry; I only realised when I heard it rip."

Rip was right—as in R.I.P. "S, stop; you'll make me cry." Her head in her hand, she shook it gingerly. "I'll go find me something to wear. You can...put this in a bag, I'll throw it away."

"I'm really sor—"

"No you aren't," she barked "but I appreciate the sentiment." It still sounded like she accused him for something, maybe like doing it on purpose, but his stance alone spoke of him having nothing to do with it. "You will be though; you'll buy my a new one."

They way he looked away alarmed told her all she needed to know; a satisfied grin appeared on her face. "Tomorrow."

.

.

Hajime pulled up outside their favourite restaurant; it'd barely been a week since Tokio's birthday and after celebrating privately, they decided to celebrate with their friends, too so they invited Elena and Okita out for dinner. Coupled with the good news they wanted to share, they figured this was the best way to tell them.

Of course, neither one expected Elena to be the first one to notice—and so soon, too. It hadn't been two minutes they had arrived, one minute they were greeting each other, the moment they settled into their seats, she let out a breathy yelp, hand over her chest.

"Tokio, what's that on your finger?"

Okita almost answered "a ring, obviously," all flair and tease, but then he actually looked at Tokio's finger and actually gaped. Tokio smiled at his honest reaction.

"That is a five figure ring," she made the inside joke that did not go wasted, because Okita actually snorted with laughter, even if Elena seemed curious.

"The only ring acceptable to pay more than four figures for, is an engagement ring," her husband explained.

"I knew it!" She almost jumped out of her wheelchair, so excited that she was, and Tokio correctly interpreted it as I want to hug you, so obliged her. Elena's hug was almost excruciating. "He proposed...!"

She nodded. "And I said yes."

Okita was actually tearing up at this point. "You can't imagine what kind of relief it is to see this ring on your finger, Tokio-chan. I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you." Her warmth radiated off of her in waves. "And he actually picked it all by himself, amazing." Saitou gave her a look; she chuckled. "Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know, you've been so supportive since I came back, I haven't even told my mother yet."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh yes! He proposed on my birthday, after the dinner with my parents, so it was easy to keep it quiet." She chuckled. "She'll be a little upset when she finds out, but I don't care. I felt this was the right thing to do."

"You don't understand—" His voice broke. "I am a grown man, I will not succumb to this," he reminded himself and Tokio had to laugh.

"Souji, relax; even I wasn't that emotional about it."

"Are you kidding? You finally said yes! This has been such a long time coming...!"

"Okita."

Saitou's voice demanded attention at the very least; when his friend obliged and looked at him, he was surprised to find him trying to signal something to him. Saitou was using the special code they had developed for when they were working cases and they needed to communicate without speaking. That was curious. Even more curious, he was trying to tell him to stop talking. Suspicious.

"Souji, it's barely been half a year I came back, it's not that long. And," she turned chuckling to Saitou "I can't believe you told him that."

"Tell me what?"

"That he proposed."

"Why wouldn't he? Because you said no?"

"What else could I say? I'd been gone for six years."

"Wait what?"

Okita's eyes went from Tokio to Saitou repeatedly; every single time he made a question, or that she answered, Saitou would try to make him get it into his thick scull to just stop. Talking. He'd explain later. But Okita's nose picked up something bad and he was certain it had everything to do with this. His brain worked faster unconsciously because it was already connecting dots his conscious brain didn't, but it still caused him to expand his chest, as if readying him for something.

"He told you he proposed to me, yes?" Okita nodded affirmatively. "Well, that's when he did it; what's so confusing to you? He proposed for the first time when I came back, and now's the second time; I didn't say yes then because, come on."

"What did you just say?"

He was flabbergasted; leaning forward in his seat, eyes small, he glared at his friend; Tokio and Elena, who only the second had noticed Hajime's efforts to stop him, seemed caught off guard. Saitou on the other hand, was bracing himself.

"Okita, I'll explain la—"

"You'll explain now, you bastard; what does she mean you proposed to her for the first time half a year ago? Half a year ago?"

"Um, Souji, what's going on?"

He ignored Tokio's question. "What is that supposed to mean, you prick?"

"Honey, I think it's obvious that whatever it is, it's best discussed when you'll be a little calmer."

"No it fucking isn't!"

Oh, wow, Souji rarely swore; and he actually banged his fists on the table and Hajime did nothing about it. Tokio blinked disbelieving. What was happening? More accurately, what did Hajime do? This was all directed at him and she could tell he messed up, otherwise he'd have kicked up a storm, too. Instead, he was trying his best to remain silent and uninvolved—too suspicious.

"What does she mean you proposed to her for the first time when she came back from Ireland and not BEFORE SHE EVER LEFT YOU ASSHOLE!?"

"H, honey, calm down, you are causing a scene, be quieter, please."

"Fine!" Then his eyes became small and lethal and when he spoke, he made everyone's skin crawl at the murder in his low voice. "What the ever-loving fuck does Tokio mean, you fucking piece of shit that you fucking proposed when she came back? And not before she left like you led me to believe seven fucking years ago!"

There was only so much Elena could do to help Saitou and hearing that made her lose all mood to do so; besides, what could she do? He dug his own grave...especially if Tokio's unadulterated shock was any indication.

"You told him _what_?"

And it was her turn now to glare him to death; he put up his palms defensively. "I didn't tell him anything; I snapped a picture of this particular ring and sent it to him." Her chin hang; Okita showed Saitou as if that just proved his entire argument and crossed his arms. "I'd been thinking of proposing for a long time, maybe half a year before you left." She couldn't believe her ears. "When I finally made up my mind and went to buy you a ring, I told him. Then I went to Suzuki's and picked this one out; I took the photo and sent it to Okita."

"Captioned with: _item secured; tonight's the night._ "

Elena, who felt like watching a horror movie, gaped along with Tokio at the developments.

"Right; and we went out to dinner that night and you said you had big news, too and I said go first and...you told me about your job. And I panicked;" he turned to Okita for the last part "and I never proposed."

"You fucking asshole! You never said you didn't though; and when I kept saying how could she choose that job to an entire life with you, you kept quiet! You led me to believe you proposed and she turned you down!"

"You asshole!" Tokio accused along with Okita.

"I know, I know; please calm down."

"How can we?" she retorted.

"Do you have any idea how cold I was to her because of that? If I had known you never went through with it, I'd have acted differently! I'd have told her about your intentions! I'd have done something! Something completely different from lying to her about having a girlfriend already and how you are so over her and shit!" he actually grabbed his head with both hands and almost pulled at his hair. "I want to punch you right now so, so bad!"

"Do you realise how much of an idiot you were? Do you?" He nodded. "No, you don't; did you know, if one is married, they can RELOCATE! AFTER SIX MONTHS OF SUCCESSFUL EMPLOYMENT THEY GAVE THE RIGHT TO ANY WEDDED EMPLOYS TO MOVE BACK HOME!"

Elena covered her mouth with her hand, looking away, trying not to laugh out of awkwardness. Tokio had actually grabbed Hajime by the collar of the shirt and shook him back and forth, as if trying to get it into his head how much of an unmitigated prick he'd been.

"You are such an asshole!" Okita exclaimed.

" **Such an asshole**!" Tokio echoed.

"I...was; I am. But why didn't you tell me abou—?"

Her eyes screamed _don't you dare finish that question_. "Who the fuck tells their boyfriend _if you marry me I can stay in the country_!? It sounds like extortion! Or, or some scheme, since we both knew you didn't want me leaving and—ugh, this is stupid; so stupid. So, so stupid! God, I swear, when we get home, I'll give you a _real_ piece of my mind."

"I'm sorry,"

"You **should** be. _Very_ sorry." Okita stated, eyes nothing short of a threat.

"Can we, um, just, forget this ever happened?" Elena tried to reconcile them. "We are here because you guys are getting married, right? Let's concentrate on that and celebrate your union..."

"We could have been here five years ago if he wasn't such an asshole!"

"I wouldn't," Elena tried to make them laugh and it did work; they nervous-chuckled and tried to let it go.

"You're lucky she's on your side for some reason," Okita kissed his wife as she rubbed his back "so I'm dropping it." A sly smile spread on his face then. "But I'd love to know what she has to say, after you go home."

"Oh, you'll find out tomorrow at work." She gave him an austere look. "I don't think he'll dare not to."

Hajime took a very deep breath; to think he had been such a self-sabotaging prick, he'd have never guessed. At least she didn't throw the ring at his face...she simply shook her head and sank in her seat. Thank god. On the bright side, if she stayed even after that, he was sure they would make it, too. The smile came involuntarily, earned him a couple of smacks, but was worth it. She loved him; he loved her. All was going to be fine...eventually.

* * *

 **A/N** : Saitou is kind of a dick and I don't think I ever showcased it before accurately, so I hope you enjoyed. Love you cuties; leave a review on your way out. Till next time!

Kisses,  
FAI.


	23. Fake it till you make it, Part one

**A/N** : Hello my dears, how are you? Hope you've been well, rested well. New story, eeey! It's not going to be an one-shot, I'm thinking four, maybe five chapters. The story is all done in my head, I know start, middle and finish; the problem is writing it, lol. Ideas abound, too; I have two more in mind and I just had a third one out of the blue, I don't know why, though it's a good thing. It's productive season. But I am committed to writing this one story at a time, because if I start two AUs, I'll never finish. I am **that** person.

So, let's stay focused. This will be one hell of a cute ride. Love you, sweeties; hope you enjoy!

 **Title** : Fake it till you make it  
 **Genre** :Romance, humour, slice of life, child care(kind of)  
 **AU** : Fake Marriage, Modernday

* * *

The dim lights helped the eyes rest; the alcohol lowered defenses; and the soft music playing in the background really managed to dull the senses and the mind. It was all a carefully orchestrated plan to make the customers more relaxed, thus more likely to spend their money on a second and a third drink, rather than just the one and be done with it. It was a very trendy place to be, clean and well-kept, too so no one wanted to leave too early: with wooden polished floors and minimalist furniture, mirrors on the ceiling and many of the walls, it was very attractive to the not-so-young crowd. Thus, the bar had a decidedly not rambunctious clientele that was there to have a good time, meet new people, have a break from their lives, or quietly try to distance themselves from their problems, in a respectful, usually moderate way. No shouts, no too loud music; no fighting between patrons. The wildest thing that had ever happened was a man got a little too drunk and had started hitting on a married woman.

He'd been promptly escorted off premises, stuffed into a taxi and the bar even footed the bill, until the man himself came to pay for it next day, apologizing profusely.

Still, the point was this place had made a name for itself for attracting those kind of people: who mostly had their lives or vices in control. So, it was no coincidence he himself had become kind of a regular. After all, he had very few chances to go out drinking, either with friends or alone, but the few times he did, he somehow found his feet dragging him through this bar's door.

Currently, he was on his third drink; or was going to be. He was still debating about that. Anyway, despite already having two of them, he still didn't feel any better; he belonged in the category of people who went there to distance themselves from their problems, maybe try to forget them for one blissful hour...but not this one, no. This one endured and kept eating away at him no matter how big of a gulp he was taking, or how strong of a drink he ordered. It mattered not. All that it did was remind him why he was there and only accentuated his anguish. Damn it. A heavy sigh left his lips, as it became crystal clear what he should do after he flagged down the server: ask for the check and not that third scotch.

Just as his amber eyes started scanning the room, to spot the man who took his order, he was distracted by the door opening; being detail-oriented from his job and curious by nature, he immediately made an effort to see who just walked inside the bar...to spot a familiar face. Oh! That was...Takagi Tokio. He smiled involuntarily; he tried to catch her eye as soon as his brain registered, too but the woman was on her phone, none too pleased, having an argument with someone on the other side of the line. As such, she had kept an impressive focus on the wall opposite her, glaring at nothing, and decidedly not around her, to catch a glimpse of him.

Aw, poor guy or woman, on the other line; he hadn't talked with Tokio all that much, but he could tell she was a person with a mind of their own, who did not easily back down from anything, thus not the best person to argue against. His eyes followed her religiously, as she went to the bar and literally tore her coat off of her, throwing it on the stool, lining side up, and then proceeding to actually sit on it. She kept talking and talking, and he realised he wouldn't get to be part of her conversation any time soon. Shaking his head, black hair perfectly in place although he used no gel to comb them back, he put up his hand just as the server looked at his table. Nodding, the older than him man in the white shirt and black slacks approached.

"Yes sir?"

"Did you see the woman in the cashmere coat that just came in?"

"The one on her phone, you mean?" He nodded affirmatively. "What do you want with her?"

It could have sounded a little defensive, if it wasn't spoken so formally; still, he shook his head amused. "Is she a regular?"

"One could say that."

"Tell the bartender to make her one of her usual drinks, put it on my tab and bring me the check."

"You wish to buy her a drink but not join her?"

"I know her; I just wanted to say hi." Just when the server was about to suggest something, he put his palm up flat. "Just get her the drink and me the bill. That's all. I'm leaving anyway."

"As you wish, sir."

When the server approached the bartender, woman still on the phone, he leaned over the bar and spoke in a quiet voice. "Do you know if Takagi-san's going to take long on her phone?"

"Ah, no," the bartender chuckled "I think her tirade is about over. Why?"

"The detective wants to buy her an apple martini." The man behind the counter looked impressed, his usual poker-face disturbed. "He says he doesn't want to join her, though, asked for the bill." Now he was doubly surprised. "I know, right? Make her the drink as fast as you can; I'll take a little longer for the bill."

The bartender rose his eyebrows suggestively, a smirk showing through. "Are you setting them up?"

"He always comes alone, you know? Feels a little lonely; maybe this works out for him." He shrugged. "I'm hoping anyway."

Shaking his head, he started making the cocktail his coworker asked to be prioritized. Honestly, he wasn't wrong; detective Saitou-san came once every month, maybe twice, never in anyone's company other than his partner's, a short lively man, and he was a pretty cool guy. He might not have said it, but he was rooting for him, too. With one eye on the woman, who was all but finished with her call and was about to flag him down, and the other on the detective, who was impatiently looking around for the server to pay his bill, he moved his hands faster.

"Your drink madam," unaffected, as if he didn't just run a mini-marathon, he presented the apple martini to the woman, who just hanged up. Decorated per usual, that distinctive thin slice of apple on the side – a little thicker, just for her – it was presented to her before she ever managed to order.

"That was fast;" she joked, just as she took it in her hands, "I barely sat. am I so predictable, what a shame."

The bartender shook his head, assuring her "no, you aren't," in his characteristic drawl "but the gentleman that's currently engaged with Handa-san asked I made one for you."

She cringed, eyes closing at the information; when they reopened, she spared an almost scolding look for the man who made it, since he knew, she had told him _only a thousand times_ , she did not want anyone to buy her drinks or come to her table or next seat, and then turned to the person he indicated. She had her back to the guy, so she could not do it discreetly – damn it – so she refrained from taking a sip, not to give any rights to—...

Her shoulders squared, eyes wide; a small smile started forming on her face, back straightening the more she regarded the "offender". "Him? Is that him, are you sure?"

He tried not to smile; she actually sounded hopeful, how unexpected. "Yes madam."

"What's he doing—is he paying the bill?"

One eye on the detective, one on the bartender, she caught him with the edge nodding affirmatively. "No, no, I need to go—Shouta-kun, can you please bring me my things and my drink over there? I need to catch up with him!"

She stood from her stool at the best of her ability, but it was tall and she was short—she was wearing heels, too, and they had anchored themselves on the metal and she couldn't move easily, he'd leave before she ever stood! Still, blessed Handa-san, noticed her struggle and found some pretense she couldn't hear – but could guess, given he pointed at the detective's card as if it had some sort of issue – and excused himself for a moment...long enough for her, waving like crazy, to be noticed by the tall detective, too.

She finally started walking towards him, a little wobbly at first but finding her balance soon enough on her camel, stiletto, Mary Janes and her smile was as wide and enthusiastic as anyone had ever seen it, in this establishment. Pleased by the fact he stopped waiting for an explanation annoyed and reverted back to his neutral expression, she pressed on, waving and hurrying along.

"Hajime-san, it's been so long!"

"Tokio."

She actually shook hands with him, something he wasn't used to, but obliged anyway. It had been a small dilemma what to do, once he'd spotted her. On one hand, he had made up his mind to leave and even asked for the check; on the other, the fact she was so excited to see him, made him feel much better than these two drinks ever did. But she would definitely want to have a drink with him, too, and he had decided to go...

"Don't tell me you're leaving?" she pretended she hadn't noticed the coat in his hands until after she sat down. When he was about to verify it, she seemed upset. "You buy me a drink just to say goodbye after such a long time? No, no; ridiculous. You must stay."

"But you just arrived; I've been here an hour and a half."

Just then, Handa-san appeared with no bill, but all of her things in hand, which he deposited on the third seat of the table. Then he left her drink in front of her. "Thank you, Handa-san," she kindly acknowledged him but went back to the task at hand. "Oh come now, Hajime-san; you bought it for me, stay until I drink it—just this one, at least. I mean, you were on your own yes? That's why an hour and a half felt so long. Time goes by faster when you're with friends."

He wasn't trying to play hard to get, he had no reason; he was just being stubborn. He did hate making a decision and needing to change it so fast...but she was very adamant about this. That and that cute face she was making was very convincing. He nodded, giving in, and put his coat on top of hers.

"You're not wrong..."

"Perfect! Handa-san, Handa-san!" She called him over and he came immediately, because of course he had been lurking around. "Bring another round of whatever Hajime-san was drinking, too, will you?"

"Of course."

It happened too fast for him to protest, but when the server left, he did. "I've already had two."

"If you want me to cancel the order that'll be fine...but then you'll have to sit there, watching me drink my delicious martini with nothing to sip on."

"If you put it that way," he gave in again and this once she winked.

"You catch on fast, Hajime-san, I like it."

"To what exactly?" he inquired, all poise.

She smirked. "The faster you do what I ask, the less time we'll consume on meaningless back and forth."

"Oh, is that so?" She nodded only once, deeply, slowly. "Are you maybe a little spoiled?"

"Never; I just know how to get what I want."

They exchanged smirks and dubious glances but it was obvious he didn't really mind her candidness, or her go-get them attitude; if anything, it felt refreshing. He had too much to do with men or women who danced around what they wanted, spoke in riddles and shied behind formalities. But not her, with her expensive-looking beige lace shirt, casually sitting cross-legged in the chair opposite him, black slacks fashionable but strict; her leg was hanging, idly moving back and forth, as she kept looking at him with a small smirk. Before they exchanged another word, his drink had arrived on the table; or, should he say, before they managed to start any sort of conversation, his order was already there? How curiously fast...when he turned to the man, he saw him give a very big thumbs up. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his drink. Seeing she had waited, he rose his glass and lightly tapped it to hers.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."

They took a sip. "So, how have you been? How's life treating you Hajime-san?"

"Could be better, not gonna lie." She seemed to feel that statement to her core, nodding along. "But it could be worse."

"Always the optimist I see; any new cases like mine at all?"

"Ah," he chuckled "no such luck. I only get old men; or young men; or psychopaths." She laughed heartily. "And those are men, too; many men kill come to think of it."

"You _are_ a plague, as a sex; I should know. In my line of business there are too few women to deal with."

"Business management is a tough field."

"Women are tough, too."

"I won't pretend sexism isn't real," he put up his hands "but that's not every factor."

Before they knew it, conversation really started going; this, that, one drink "oh come on, one more" became two hours. They hadn't seen each other for a long time so words flowed; they were never friends, in truth, but they had been friendly ever since he had closed her case—before that even. When one of her close male friends was killed, she was looked at as a suspect early on; she was open about everything and _brutally_ honest on the regular. She still answered all of their questions and rarely deployed her faithful lawyer for any of their interactions. She had been helpful and clear and that helped catching the one responsible after all, for there were too many instances the perpetrator had tried to point the finger to her but failed.

In the end, everything was revealed and she had kindly told them, _I told you so, idiots_. Saitou had been one of the few who had genuinely believed she was innocent, not because she was a woman or she was rich or "her smile was very cute" as one of the trainees informed him; simply because, there was no way a person like her killed someone like that; and then deny it repeatedly in that straightforward way. She would have flaunted, she would taunt them, she would tell them how she did it, hypothetically of course, and try to confuse them—it was her character, he surmised so it couldn't be her. It was a gut-feeling, too and that far, his gut had never proven him wrong.

He watched her settle after a hearty laugh, sitting back in her chair; there was something quite calming in the way she filled her seat, as if she owned it, as if she was supposed to be sitting there next to him. She massaged her neck then, leaning on the table.

"How's your daughter doing?"

His smile was instinctive, but a little sad. "She's very smart; the teacher suggested we start her on real books already."

"That's amazing! Congratulations...and she's how old exactly?"

"She'll be turning six in a couple of months."

"Unbelievable...wait, couple of months you said? As in April?" he nodded. "Hey, that's my birthday, too! What date?"

"The 15th."

"Oh my god, me, too!" She laughed. "I'll remember; I'll send her something for her birthday."

"No need."

"Of course there is, please tell me your address."

"There's no reason, really, I don't want you to."

"Oh, come on, it'll be nice...!"

"I don't even know where she's going to be in two months from now," it bitterly escaped him, snorting as it left his lips "don't ask so much."

There was that little thing that bothered him, that he wouldn't share. She had correctly assumed it had to do with his offspring, since all seemed to be going if not good, then as usual at work and he had no personal life to speak of, as he himself had informed her. Talk as much as they did, joke and tease, it always felt like he was keeping something back, hidden, forgotten...or trying to forget it in favour of having a good time with her, but never managing to.

"What do you mean?"

He already regretted saying it, she could tell by his refusal to look at her and his sudden interest in his almost empty glass. "Never mind, it's nothing you should concern yourself with."

"But it's something that bothers you, yes? Come on, share; what's the worst that could happen?"

He sighed; maybe it was the drink – his fifth one, in fact – or maybe her voice; maybe the fact he felt so refreshed when he saw her and then all the more guilty for daring to think anything positive in the midst of all that was going on with his daughter. No matter what it was, it compelled him to speak. "My mother-in-law is creating problems; it's been going on for a couple of months now."

"What sort?"

"She wants to take custody of Aiko." Her chin fell. "She says I don't take good care of her, I don't spend enough time with her, I pawn her off to her and my mother all the time...which is _not_ true. I am always there. I have done everything in my power to be able to keep up with her and work without either one suffering, even if I did lessen the hours I spent at the office. I try more, I'm there more, I never spend a night out of home, whatever she needs I'm just one call, or door, or room away; I don't leave her alone. I'm...I'm a good father damn it! And I try my best."

"You are," she assured with conviction and squeezed his arm at the clear anguish he was going through. "and it does sound like you do your best; what does your lawyer say?"

"She says single dads are perfectly fine and capable of keeping a child; there's no way she takes full custody. But she could take partial custody, depending on the judge, because I do work long hours and I do have to resort to my mother or mother-in-law to keep an eye on her."

"Oh god."

Her heart went out to him; at the same time, her own reasons for hitting the bar tonight just felt a tiny bit more selfish and small. But each their own. "I'm so sorry to hear that; isn't there anything you can do to stop that?"

He heaved an impressive sigh, forehead finding its way in his hand. "She said, if I was no longer a single dad, I could easily win the case; all I have to do is get married." His snort was impressive, too. "I barely have enough time to eat, I told her, where am I going to find a _wife_? She shrugged; she said it would take care of all of my problems. Well, I'm not even dating; women don't just fall from the sky. I can't—I don't know anymore...I just want to everything to be put into motion so I can see what to do. I don't even know if Miki, my mother-in-law, has filed the paperwork yet or she's just threatening to scare me."

The moment she heard the word wife, something sparked within her. Something started swirling in the back of her mind...something she wasn't ready to put to words quite yet.

"I'm really sorry; I don't know what else to say." There was a pause. "Do you want me to get you in contact with my lawyer?"

"No; I have no complaint from this one...and I could never afford your lawyer, I think."

"Well...there's a way you could." A plan started forming now. "Do you know why I came here tonight Hajime?" He shook his head. "Same reason I always do: I received bad news."

"But they say you're a regular."

"Exactly."

"Ouch." But he could relate.

"Tell me about it." She averted her eyes. "But tonight's a little different. Today's bad news are...special." She sighed, leaning forward, chin resting on her hand. "My father announced he'll be naming his successor on my birthday. There are three candidates: my brother Tora, a capable and highly organised individual; Kazuma-san, a man who has been working honest and hard for the past five years to get to the position he is now; and me, youngest daughter and child, the one who up till this morning was the undisputed favourite." She gritted her teeth and swallowed. "But not anymore; not unless I change my ways."

He could see the anger, the betrayal in her eyes; the harshness with which she brought the incident to memory; the way she tensed at the very thought.

"It's my fault, you see, that I haven't been already chosen. It's my fault for being the diligent student, who had no time for boys and only focused on her schoolwork, throughout my student life, university included. I didn't go to parties or get knocked up by careless boyfriends, so I'm suddenly a failure! Because I didn't get led around by the nose by some guy who batted his eyelashes at me; because I was responsible and hard-working and career-oriented and so focused on being the best at what I do that I didn't care about men!"

"If you're the most qualified, why do they care about anything else?"

"Beats me!" She had began gesticulating, just like when she was arguing on her phone, but now she actually threw her hands up so suddenly, she almost knocked her glass over. "But apparently it does and apparently I am the bad seed in the family because _how dare I_ be turning twenty nine with no boyfriend? Shame on me! I should be getting married by now..."

He almost put his hand on her shoulder, but refrained last minute and simply nodded.

"And they even had the audacity to tell me, if I wanted, I could always ask them for help; they had a line of guys waiting for me. Because, naturally, my opinion didn't matter and obviously, my judgment wasn't to be trusted." She snorted. "Hypocrites, all of them; brother had an accident with some girl he met his second year and they got married in a hurry before she started showing—it's only a miracle it worked out for him. And sister went husband-shopping as soon as she turned eighteen, of course they'll be more _successful_ ," she air-quoted, unforgiving "at it than me, who concentrated, _stupidly might I add,_ on her academic and later on, career advancement."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I've been thinking about that all day I've been coming up empty...until now that is." At his interest, she smirked; sitting back in her chair, she crossed her arms, then her legs, looking all kinds of authority. "Let's get married, Hajime."

He snorted; "sure; know anyone who'll have us?"

Her smirk became wider. "No, no, you misunderstand; let us get married to one another, Hajime."

A wide array of emotions went through him at that statement, even if they didn't really show: shock; wander; amazement; doubt; disbelief; concern; and in the end, disappointment. "I think the martinis got to you."

"No, they didn't." She wasn't offended; if anything, she knew this would be the first thing out of his mouth.

"If this isn't the alcohol speaking, then what is?"

"What I'm proposing is a perfectly sound business opportunity: you need to get married to keep your daughter; I need to get married to succeed my father; we are both single. This is a match made in heaven."

He needed space; he leaned back as far as he could, back always straight, hands on the table. "Are you drugged? Did they put anything in those drinks?"

"Stop; I'm being completely serious. Think about it—we don't even have to actually get married. Just presenting a fiance is adequate; we can remain engaged for however long it takes and then," she shrugged "we'll just say we didn't work out. Who'll care?"  
"The court will; we'll be committing perjury, Tokio. And I am a detective, in case you forgot."

"Listen to what I'm telling you; this is the perfect crime. No victims, no one gets hurt, no wrongdoing; we just get what we deserve. Yes, your issue is much bigger than mine, I can understand that much, but we both have our reasons; and I don't mind moving in with you, I don't mind acting; I like you, anyway, you seem like a good person. Not to mention, _I can work from home_."

Alright, he was not going to lie; that option sounded a little attractive. "And no one will think the timing suspicious? Two strangers decided—"

"—we are no strangers, Hajime. People remember me from that case; and people remember how you gave me your number in case anyone ever threatened me."

"But we never dated; no one saw us together."

"We've met a couple of times since, but so what? I have a habit of dating men and not telling anyone—it's a thing. Ask my closest friends, they'll tell you the same. Is it healthy? No. But my parents drove me into it a long time ago, before I realised I don't have to account for everything I did, especially in the romance department."

"And why did _I_ keep it a secret?"

"Because I asked you to; and you have an almost six-year-old daughter that your mother-in-law wants to take away from you, but even if she didn't, I bet you wouldn't want Aiko meeting a girlfriend if it wasn't serious, right?"

Damn it, why was it that she made so much sense? Such an amoral thing, too? "Say what you want; it won't work. It's barely sane as an idea to begin with."

"Oh come on; it's a no-strings-attached once-in-a-lifetime chance. Just take it!"

"Nothing about this is no-strings-attached."

"If you worry about Aiko, let me tell you I am great with children!" She seemed proud. "I babysit for my siblings all the time—I'm their favourite relative, hands down. And both brother and sister have girls, too; I got this. Your daughter will love me."

"That's the worst part." That she did not expect to hear. "Tokio, Yaso died two days after delivery; Aiko never met her mother. What if she gets _too_ attached, what do I do then?"

"Well...I don't have to disappear from your lives once this is over...besides, what do you prefer? Emotionally manipulating your daughter once, when she's too young to remember it, or be there for only half the important moments of her life at best?"

That was a low blow, she knew it; but she couldn't do otherwise, he needed to fully understand what was at stake. Or, at least, be reminded of it...she did mention earlier how she always got her way in the end anyway, why was he being difficult?

"Alright, I admit, I was callous, I'm sorry" she tried to cajole him, after receiving the full burnt of a lasting, harrowing glare "but you see my point."

"It's a ridiculous idea and an even more ridiculous proposal."

"But it isn't; it's perfect...!"

Neither one was going to change their mind about this, it was clear to see; they sighed at the same time. And just as he had started thinking about it, she said the wrong thing, damn it...but she did have his attention; she could see from the way his eyes averted, trying too hard not to betray what went on in his mind, his head turned away, but his body fully facing her. And his hands were on the table; not open, but there. That meant he was at least considering the possibilities, not too bad of a sign. She could still make it.

"Look, it's been a long day; we are both tired. I know you need to sleep on this, to make a proper decision."

"I already did: I refused."

"Sleep on it," she insisted and stood "I'm going to the ladies room for a moment."

"And when you come back, you'll realise how stupid this was."

What a stubborn man; shaking her head, she went to the bathroom.

What a head-strong woman; he shook his head, as he watched her go. When she returned, she reached for her purse immediately; she produced a small writing pad and a pen. "This is my personal contact information," she ripped the first little page, after she scribbled on it "use it once you reach a decision."

"I've already—"

"Goodnight and bye for now, Hajime-san," she cut him off on purpose as she retrieved her coat. "Hope to hear from you soon."

"Yeah, bye."

What a night; what a crazy woman. As if all he had on his mind wasn't enough, she put new thoughts, troubles and ideas into it. Why was she so insistent on this, anyway? It was never a good idea to lie in court, especially under oath and for such a reason, too. He didn't want to keep his daughter because of deception, but because someone actually realised how much of an effort he put in and the result was satisfactory. He was far from perfect, yes, but he was a good father; period! No matter what his mother-in-law tried to say.

"Hey," he stopped their server then "bring me the check, will you?"

"Err..." he hesitated.

"What?"

"The lady took care of it." Saitou stared. "All of it; yours, too, from before she came."

Flabbergasted, he wondered "why did you let her?"

"She said you gave her cash for your share and she paid all of it by card."

"...of course she did."

"I'm sorry sir, but—"

"It's okay," he reassured "it wasn't your fault."

Goddamn, she was really smart, too! Smart and pig-headed. Because she did this on purpose, he was sure—she could read people easily and she knew he wouldn't stand for this! At the very least, he'd call her to arrange a date where he'd pay for everything; at best, he would torture himself with thoughts of her and her stupid deals!

He shook his head disappointed in himself as he put on his coat; when he exited the bar, and the crisp night air hit him, he took a deep breath, savouring the feeling as long as he could. Too many things happened tonight. He was exhausted. All he wanted was to kiss his daughter goodnight and go to sleep. With that happy thought in mind, he took to the streets, walking to the taxi piazza one block away and waited.

.

.

Next morning, he woke up to his doorbell ringing; stumbling out of bed, as well as a little suspicious on who could it be when his alarm clock hadn't even gone off yet, he headed to the front door with steady steps. He opened the bedroom door that his daughter slept in on the way, making sure she was still fast asleep and only then did he confidently decided to open it, acutely aware of where he kept his gun.

"Good morning sweetie."

He blinked. What was his mother doing here? She always came once she picked Aiko from school, well after four. Still, she shouldered past him, when she saw he was still too groggy to process information right, holding something he couldn't make out in her hands. He closed the door behind her.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No; yes; yes and no." She took a deep breath that she released immediately. "This came for you in the mail, yesterday." She produced an envelope. "I didn't give it to you when you came back because you looked very tired but it ate at me. Here, take it."

She shoved it in his hands and then proceeded to kick off her slippers and ran to the fridge. She took out a bottle of milk, then moved to the cupboards where she took out a glass. She filled it to the brim and drank greedily. All of that, before he even looked at the letter, which was suspicious because his mother never drank milk like that if something hadn't gone wrong. Keeping his eyes on her, he noticed she went through the motions of making him a cup of coffee before he asked for one.

Alright, he was getting worried now. When he glanced down at the envelope, he felt the pit of his stomach disappear; his throat, dry. It was from the Department of Justice. He opened it, sitting on a chair, trying his hardest to brace himself. It wasn't too long, only three paragraphs—he read them all thrice. And every time, he would linger at the same places, taking a deeper breath, trying to swallow the knot that had formed in his throat, but no luck; it was still there, still making it harder for him to breathe.

He could tell his mother had read it before him, since he didn't break the seal, and he could finally understand why she was being like this. He looked at her with the edge of his eyes.

"It came yesterday you say?"

"I don't know when exactly, only that it was here when I brought her back."

He nodded, hand in his forehead. "Thanks," he said offhanded, as she put the cup of hot, fresh coffee in his hand. He took a sip. "She did it," he stated and they both knew what that meant, without her asking. "This sets he date for the first preliminary hearing."

"Want me to take Aiko to school?" she asked after kissing the top of his head.

"No, I will; this" he held the paper out 'changes nothing. And I will fight it with everything I have. She is my daughter; she'll stay with me."

"...maybe we should call the lawyer."

"I will, later; you go to tell dad, once he wakes up. See you tonight."

Something hardened in his eyes; without realising, he had made a decision. As she kissed the top of his head for the second time, he fixed his phone with a serious look. Trying to put all of those thoughts away though, he drained his cup, even if it was almost full, and concentrated on waking up his cute little daughter.

Aiko was such an easy and accommodating child; just like her mother, in more ways than her looks. Even if, objectively, she was a spitting image of Yaso, thank god, with her soft brown tresses and her small nose; the only thing she took from him was his sharp, amber eyes, that now were barely opening, as he nudged her little shoulders.

"Little plum, wake up; it's a school day. We need to get you ready."

She groaned, pulling the blanket up; he chuckled. The one thing that always made him feel like he was staring at a miniature of his ex-wife, behaviour-wise, was this: her adamant refusal to wake on the first try.

"I will go and prepare your breakfast; you have five minutes."

She nodded at the best of her ability, grateful for the extra time; he petted her hair once and headed to the kitchen, as memories of them together started playing in his mind:

Aiko being late to preschool because he wouldn't let go of her hand at the door; Aiko being sick, a little bundle of clothes and blankets at his feet, as she lay on the couch with him, to keep him company as he worked a case; her stubbing her toe on the kitchen table and crying; the first time she drew blood and didn't know what to do and came to show it to him distraught. He had simply smiled, warned her it would sting, sterilised it and put a band-aid over it; kissed it better, too, to make sure. Her first word was "dad"; and the first time he ever saw her, he could only hold her, not too tight, because she was just born, but as tight as he could, to let her know he was there for her, forever. She was his responsibility. And although he looked at her for only a split second, he would everything for her.

Everything.

And now someone wanted to take her away, because why? He worked too long—he worked so that she could be taken care of, provided for; he actively made the world a safer place for her. And now they were going to blame him for it? As if on repeat, he could only hear Tokio's voice echoing in his head: _what do you prefer? Emotionally manipulating your daughter once, when she's too young to remember it, or be there for only half the important moments of her life at best?_ Fine, so be it; let them come. He would **not** allow this to happen; he was not going to take this lying down.

Giving a final look at his cell phone, then a glance at his coat's pocket, he went through his routine and once he'd finished with her breakfast, he went back into her room.

"Little plum, it's time to rise; we need to beat the sun to school." He had no idea why, but that line always worked on her; it was the competitive streak she inherited from him, he smugly hypothesized, and again, it made her bounce out of bed, causing him to scold her for falling out of bed, because she got her feet tangled.

"Daddy, what are we wearing today?"

"Leggings; it's getting a little milder. And how about a nice sweater?"

"I want the grey ones, with the cute butterflies! And the grey woolly sweater."

"You aren't a Super Sentai, yet; different colours for tops and bottoms, okay?"

She pouted; he prompted her. "Okay, fine; but once I become a Super Sentai, I get to wear all grey," she continued stubbornly.

"I promise."

Then they had her breakfast, while she told him all about yesterday; there was a girl in her class he didn't like because she always picked on his little plum, but lately he'd be hearing plenty about a boy named Hori, who was very nice and smart and always came to her rescue...he didn't like that either. Well, he did, because it was cute and nothing came of it, but what are they doing in that place? Why does a fellow classmate have to protect her? What about the teachers?

When he had posed that question to one of them, she defended themselves, by saying there was only so much they could do. And since the other girl, little Sissy, wasn't being physical, or too hurtful, they couldn't keep them supervised all the time, because some boys did resort to fistfights and they had more sources of problems. Well, fine; it wasn't unreasonable...but he didn't have to like it. And apparently, they needed more people. He'd be sure to comment on that.

Once both were dressed warmly enough to start their day, he locked his door, took Aiko's hand in his and they got to the car. All strapped in, he drove her to her preschool; there, he got her out of the car, picked her up, gave her a big kiss goodbye and watched her go inside. He got into his car, still looking at the spot he last saw his daughter, and took out his cellphone. Digging into his pocket, he produced the crumpled paper he thankfully hadn't thrown out, for some reason, and dialed the digits.

He waited.

"This is Tokio," he heard her formal voice and almost hesitated; he was going to hang up. But just one thought of his little plum being taken away jolted him right back and prompted him to speak.

"This is Hajime."

"Hajime!"

They spoke his name at the same time: hers was exited, his was somber. That gave him some hope. He still sighed. "I'm in."

"Perfect! Say no more over the phone; we'll meet tonight and talk shop then."

"Just one question." He rushed her, because she was so psyched about this, she said it all in one breath and was about to hang up. "What kinda ring do you want?"

There was a moment of complete silence on her end; then, laughter. "I like sapphires but I hate in-your-face things; we'll talk about that tonight, too. Does nine sound good?"

"Where?"

"I'll text you the address. I really have to go now, okay? See you tonight."

.

.

When he read the address on the screen, he wasn't sure where she was leading him, he believed that to be a residential area, and, sure enough, when he pulled up he bore witness to a very upscale apartment complex. He had an idea it was going to be so, but at first he had assumed it was going to be some expensive bar or restaurant she was leading him, not her house. A little trusting, wasn't she? And how was he supposed to get there? This place had a _fence_ around it and she gave him no floor or building number.

All of his objections were rendered null when he approached said fence and saw he had a telecommute system. He rang the bell.

"This is Suzuki Honda, how may I help you?"

"My name is Saitou Hajime—"

"Ah, the gentleman Tokio-sama has been expecting. Please come inside and head for the building number three; there, you will give your name to the man at the lobby and he will tell you what to do."

The door for the people opened, next to the huge door for the cars, and he was allowed inside. Geez, this place was even bigger than it looked ten seconds ago. Six huge apartment buildings, ten-stories high, were laid out in front of him; they had numbers in kanji at the height of the lobby, to tell you which one was which. He spotted the one he wanted and headed there. Three minutes of fast-walking later, the automated entrance parted and allowed him in.

"Good evening; my name is Saitou Hajime."

He said it before the man had time to look up from his computer screen, throwing the older man a little off. "Of course, Tokio-sama has been expecting you." He looked to his papers but he had no idea why since he already had all the information he needed. "Please go to the elevator and press the button with the Latin letter "P"."

P was it? As in a penthouse. Not that he didn't remember how rich she was from his case, but goddamn. Nodding to the man, he easily did as requested. Just by the elevator he could tell what an apartment he was going to go to, seeing it was all golden colours, yellow polished metal and a sort of European feeling of luxury. And yet, nothing prepared him for what he witnessed once the doors opened to let him out:

He was already standing in the hallway of this house. It was all windows, as far as the eye could see, with white minimalist and luxurious furniture. To the right, he could distinguish a bar, in the same colour, clearly wooden, separating the rest of the living room from what appeared to be a fully-equipped liquor store, with all types of alcohol on the shelves.

It stretched for a long way, until it stopped, there were exactly two large steps and a half-wall separated the rest of the flat from the main entrance. There was nothing else on the left, other than small space with a chair, enough from someone to sit and remove his shoes, like a little box. Alright. This was new.

"Tokio, are you here?"

"Yes!" Her head appeared behind the half wall, smile wide. "Come in, come in; I was just preparing a quick bite—you haven't eaten anything, right?"

He nodded, as he removed his shoes and then his coat, hanging it on the hanger that was about a metre long, with multiple hooks, on his immediate right.

"Would you like something to drink, too?"

"A beer would be nice."

"Whatever you want."

The more she talked, the faster it got, absorbed as she was in her task, for she had already went back to the, obviously, kitchen. He approached, taking in the space as well as the general feeling of luxury. It reminded him of the suites one saw on hotel brochures and he always wondered, who actually lived there? She did, was the answer. As the rest of the house was revealed to him, he noticed the kitchen, all of it, appliances included, was one of those smart kitchens—the entire house was, probably. She was clean though, he had to give it to her—for such a white house everything was spotless. She hardly did it on her own, though. He bet she had a professional do it.

"I hope you like shrimps."

"They are to my liking."

"Great; I made some crab-patties, too, with some smoked tuna; I think there's a mackerel somewhere here, too. Oh, I have a tentacle from an octopus, too it's quite the delicacy!"

"Is it a quick bite or a whole meal?"

She laughed. "Small quantities, large variety. Now, sit down, get comfortable, I'll be right there."

She brought a tray of small plates, all filled to the brim with something different than the other; with quick steps, she left and came back with the drinks: a beer for him, as he asked, and sake for her. Hm...sake, huh? Now he was jealous. He noticed she brought two cups; a good hostess.

"Since you didn't open the beer, put it away; I think I prefer sake, too."

"As you wish."

When she came back, finally empty handed and plopped to the couch right next to him, he noticed she was wearing a burgundy, satin nightgown, with lace details at the bust and the hemming around her knees, as well as a matching robe, all the way to the floor, with the same black lace details at the end of the sleeves. Her feet sported black thick woolen socks that went to her ankle.

"This place is harder to get into than the Prime Minister's office, what gives?"

She chuckled. "Dad wanted me close to him and this was the only place that satisfied my aesthetic needs and his paranoia."

"Whatever; I'm not moving in with you."

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"I'm not bringing my daughter here," he stated absolute "nor myself."

"Oh," she sighed in relief "I know, that's fine; I'll move in with you."

He raised an eyebrow at her, challenge written all over his face. "It's quite the downgrade."

She rolled her eyes. "I think I can handle it. Besides, this house is mostly a symbol of status, rather than a necessity. I am one person, I don't need a penthouse."

He reached for the sake bottle at the same time as her; she slapped his hand away. "Besides," she continued like they hadn't just argued over the alcohol "the one without the child moves; can't have her changing districts and schools and her entire routine. Baby steps."

When she actually poured for him first and then herself, he was surprised. She caught it with the edge of her eyes and shook her head. "I have manners, Hajime." Flipping her hair, she sat back in the comfortable sofa, feet curling underneath her as he took his first sip.

"So, we already established place of residence: your place. Now we need to arrange a date for you to spontaneously pop the question," he smiled at that "as well as a set of rules. We are supposed to be getting married after all. Secret affair or not, we are supposed to be in love. And I can guess, judging from your character, if your emotions weren't truly deep about a woman you wouldn't ask her to marry you, so it's safe to say we must act in love. Like ourselves, yes, but ourselves in love. For instance..." she took a little pause, making sure she had his full attention "I am very big on displays of affection, public or not."

"I feared you'd be."

She nodded, sympathetic. "Yeah, I bet you aren't." He didn't even have to verbally confirm it, just the way he looked to the side was all she needed. "But that can work in our favour! We don't have to be too effusive in front of friends and family. Though there will come a time where we'll have to hug or kiss, it's going to be unavoidable."

"I see what you mean with rules." He popped a crab-pattie in his mouth, taking another sip. "Alright, hugs and kisses are acceptable in any fitting setting; but nothing more and not behind closed doors."

"Deal."

"We sleep in the same room—"

"Naturally," she commented annoyed, as she too drank.

"—and the same bed," he persevered; she still clicked her tongue.

"Yes, I'm not an idiot; I understand. We have to lie to your daughter, too, so of course we will. If they ask her and she says we sleep in separate rooms they'll immediately suspect something."

"Just so we're clear..." These shrimps were delicious, oh god. "One important thing: when it comes to Aiko, you do as I say." She crossed her arms, visibly bracing herself. "What I mean is, I can't tell her one thing and you another; and just because you'll want her to like you, you won't let her do whatever she wants."

Fair enough, her expression betrayed.

"Also, if she asks to do something and I forbid it and you don't agree, please don't argue with me in front of her; we'll talk about it privately and if I believe you're making more sense, I'll probably change my mind."

"I get it, don't challenge your authority in front of her." She took a sip, eyebrows raising. "But you do the same."

"...fine, so long as it complies with the first rule."

She smirked. "Very well." Another sip. "We need to set a time-frame, too; I think it's going to be impossible to get engaged, convince everyone we're a real couple and then break up in a normal way in less than four months—maybe more." He nodded. "I think it's paramount we don't break up as soon as it's decided you get to keep her, to make it more believable, so everything will depend on the court. After all, once the proposal in made, my end will be met much sooner; maybe the same month. It will be your issue that takes the longest."

"Preliminary hearing is April 1st."

"That's some sense of humour they have..."

Conversation dwindled after that; seeing the detective was actually hungry, he started alternating between snacking and drinking, sparing few words for the hostess who drank her cup but did not refill hers before his. As if remembering something, some long minutes after the last word was exchanged, he jolted. Swallowing his food, he looked straight at her.

"We need an accomplish, someone to have our back. If we have that one witness who knew of our relationship, it makes sense how we could have kept it secret for so long. He could testify to it, too if it came down to it, though I don't appreciate putting anyone in that spot."

"You're not wrong...do you have someone in mind already? Otherwise, I can definitely talk to a friend."

He put up his palm to stop her. "No need; you said you've kept relationships secret before this, from everyone." She nodded, even if he didn't word it as a question. "I can't. There's one person who'd definitely know; it's him we'll have to make use of."

"Which is...?"

"That's easy," he teased, as if thinking her lazy for not guessing it "my partner, Okita Souji."

"Of course; Okita. How could I forget?" A tired smile later, her eyes on him because softer, but just as calculating. "So, do we have a deal?"

"We do."

"Splendid! So, when can you propose? Ah, first, show me some rings; I'll tell you what I like."

He took out his phone, prepared for that question. He readily went to his photos and pressed on the first one. She actually crawled next to him on the sofa, looking over his shoulder. "This is the one I lean towards the most." It was a discreet, but solid sapphire in the middle, standing alone. But the band around it was studded with semiprecious diamonds. "Then is this one, but you did say—"

She stopped his hand from swiping to the left; "it's perfect; no need to see any more. I hope it isn't too expensive."

"No, it's fine," he assured her "within desirable price-range."

"That's a relief." She looked at him with the edge of her eyes. "Another condition: I'm paying for the ring; and I'm keeping it."

"What? Why? And if you were going to pay for it why are you worried about how much it costs?"

"I don't want to pay a thousand dollars for a ring! But this one is really beautiful, I want to keep it; I don't believe you managed to find something I'd like so much, but now that I saw it, I want it and I won't be giving it back."

He shrugged. "Whatever. I'll go buy it tomorrow; talk to Okita then, too. I'll text you the details."

"Fax me the receipt, too."

"I may be nearly as rich as you, but I'm not without means, either; relax. It's not that taxing of an expense. Besides, I think you're good for it."

"Alright! Perfect. So, a toast." She lifted her cup high in the air with one hand and the other she put around his neck. "To close-knit families and great business opportunities."

"Aye." They touched their cups and drank. "Once I finish this cup, I'm leaving. Savor your last days in this house."

She chuckled, unhanding him, opting to simply rest her head on his shoulder. "I don't mind downsizing for the right reasons." They shared a look. "When do I meet Aiko-chan?"

"Once I propose; I gather it'll be in four days from now, maybe a week. Depends entirely on Okita."

"Oh, if he agrees please give him my phone number, yes?"

He had no reason to disagree; with that detail being settled, he drained his cup. He ate the remainder of the shrimps for good measure and pushed off the couch. "Thanks for the food."

"Don't mention it."

"I do hope you know how to cook more things than just shrimp though."

She laughed, a little disbelievingly. "No one starts off with shrimp, Hajime; besides, I told you I was a student didn't I? I lived alone, I can take care of myself."

"Taking care of a child is different though. Certain things must be done no matter wha-"

"I know, detective, just go," she actually pushed him towards the front door "I'm not an idiot; and like I've already said, your daughter isn't the only small child I've ever taken care of. In fact, she's older than both my nieces were. Chill; I got this." He gave her a look. "Yes, I know; she's your daughter. But try to be a little trusting at least."

"...goodbye, Tokio."

As he took the long elevator ride back to reception, he couldn't help the feeling he just made a huge mistake—or at least, compromised himself some grand, stupid way. But now the deal was struck; he would not back away. Not if it gave him the chance to stop this dispute with his mother-in-law for good.

* * *

 **A/N** : First chapter is over, yay! I really liked the concept, not gonna lie. Love you all. Please leave a review on your way out lovelies.

Much love,  
FAI~


	24. Fake it till you make it, Part two

**A/N:** Hello people, I'm back at it again with a new chapter! More of a transitional type of thing, but I enjoyed writing, whenever I could actually sit down to write because daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, real life got in the way a little too much. Anyway, tell me if you like it as always and I love your support. Many thanks to my great beta reader who always comes through, **Error205**.

Here we go!

 **Title** : Fake it till you make it  
 **Genre** :Romance, humour, slice of life, child care(kind of)  
 **AU** : Fake Marriage, Modernday

* * *

"This is Tokio speaking; how may I help you?"

"Tokio-chan, long time no see! Or hear; you don't even remember my voice? How disappointing."

"Okita-san!" It took her a moment, but once that affectedly cute tone registered, the arbitrarily familiar honorific in the end of her name, she put two and two together. "Yes, long time no see; how are you?"

"Me? I'm fine—it's you who's the interesting one! I heard my best friend is going to propose to you. You cunning little fox, you wrapped him around your finger after all."

She laughed. "Ridiculous; I'd never, Hajime of all people."

"What I hear is different though...tell you what, why don't we meet in a couple of hours? You can explain it all then."

"Of course, I'd love to; Gyoen National Garden is good for you?"

"I'll be waiting right outside, per usual." She smirked at the little addition. Probably people were listening in on him and he was being extra convincing, how thoughtful of him. "See you in two and a half hours."

"See you then."

He hang up; she looked at her watch. Hm...she could make her twelve o clock appointment, if she took the company's car and driver. Deciding that was how it was going to be, she went back to her papers, as the clock on the wall signaled ten fourty-five.

.

"Tokio-chan."

"Ah, Okita-san..."

No matter what they'd said over the phone and all the pretending, she still managed to pick him out of a crowd relatively easily; not just because he was shorter than the average male in Japan, but also because he was, well, memorable: light brown hair, bright brown eyes with a unique twinkle of mischief. Okita.

"I booked us tickets, we can go inside for a walk, if you'd like," he informed, offering his hand.

She took it readily. "That sounds nice; I've never actually been..." she murmured in the end, a little ashamed; she spent all of her life in this town but she had never bothered. It was beautiful though, made her regret never setting foot in this place.

They followed the tour, mostly tourists from other countries, until they reached a spot, near the riverbank, where no one else was lingering; in fact, after their tour left, they were the only ones there. That's when he came to a stop, disengaging himself from him in one fluid motion. She watched with interest, as he went close to the water, looking at his reflection. "So, you're getting married," he started off, innocuous enough, hands in his pockets.

She came closer then, as she replied an amused "yes..." but only once she looked closer at the water did she realise he was using it as a mirror, looking at her reflection instead of his own.

"What are your intentions, Tokio-chan?"

Her eyes became smaller, eyebrows drawn together. "To make us both happier."

"I've known Saitou forever; when he came to me with this request I was...surprised to say the least. He did mention this wasn't his idea by far and I can tell, he's at the end of his rope; there are signs, you know? His eyes had that glazed-over look yesterday all shift, he was dreadful and I just knew it had to do with Aiko-chan before I ever asked. He told me of course, everything about his mother-in-law and the letter, but you...you had come to him the day before that."

"What letter?"

"Oh? You don't know?" She shook her head no. "Well, it doesn't hurt to share—not this; basically, yesterday came the letter from the Department of Justice, about his preliminary hearing."

"Oh, okay; he did say something about that, just not the letter explicitly."

"I figured; the thing is, Saitou told me he saw you that night, _today_ —and you proposed this just before the letter arrived in his hands. That's suspicious."

She shook her head, mildly amused. "We just ran into each other at a bar; he was the one who spotted me first, in fact, I went to him only after he bought me a drink. Thing is," she tried to ignore how he seemed surprised at that tidbit of information "it just happened—it was good, or bad, timing."

There was a small stretch of silence during which Okita was scanning her face from top to bottom, vigilant for all those micro-expressions that could be telling of a lie; all she did in return, was to stand there, one hand on her hip, the other hanging limp, head tilted to the right. Her mouth was something between a grin and a smirk and her eyes spoke of not offense, but fun; at his expense no less. He sighed.

"I remember you from our case; you've always been bold and honest. I was just making sure that hasn't changed."

"Not at all."

"Fine then; I'll allow this. I will support you."

Slowly, her expression transitioned from challenging fun to brilliant, unadulterated joy!

"But!" He put up a finger, as if to stop her enthusiasm from snowballing "if I so much suspect you're trying to be crafty in a way that hurts him, I'll end this entire fiasco."

"Oh please," she waved him away, almost laughing "I like the man; I don't want him to suffer. And if I happen to get a little something out of it, so be it."

"Tokio," for the first time that day, she became absolutely serious, as he had dropped the honorific and the adorable act "I know for a fact you are not a bad person; and I also know he too likes you...but shit happens. Don't hurt him. Or worse, Aiko-chan; if you hurt them, I'll be your worst nightmare."

Without a shred of worry or discomfort, she took his hand again and urged him to walk. "Okita-san, you're a good friend; I promise to abide by your rules."

The way she inclined her head, imperceptibly, made his good humour return and laugh. "Perfect; just so we're clear why I'm doing this." It was no small thing after all, knowing there was a very big chance he'd have to lie under oath. "But please, call me Souji!"

"Souji-kun sounds good?"

"Love it! Now, I have just the perfect idea for how he's going to propose to you, I'll talk it over with him once I leave here, too but this is the gist of it:

Saitou and Tokio where sitting in her favourite restaurant, having a formal dinner; both dressed to impress, they shared a little bit of their day between bites. Once their meal was finished, he asked for dessert; instead of the server showing up with the two plates, though, another appeared, a familiar figure, wearing one of his better suits: Okita, holding only one plate, covered by a small metallic dome, came to her side.

Surprised, she looked from one to the other in entertained suspicion, catching on quickly; and then, Okita pulled it away, revealing a small, blue box in the shape of a cube. Clearly, the case of a ring. Startled, she took it in her hands after a reassuring word from Saitou. When she opened the cube, right in the middle, it contained a wonderful, diamond studded band, with a nice sapphire right in the middle. Her mouth opened wide which she tried to cover as well as she could when Okita laughed boisterously and informed "engagement rings are all the rage lately; the perfect after-dinner snack."

"If you'll have it," Saitou supplemented and she looked red in the face, airing herself.

"Yes," she finally let out, all chocked up, fingertips touching her nose. "Yes, please," and instead of taking the ring out of its place, she pushed it towards her partner, left hand extended, her entire body leaning over the table.

Unfazed, he pulled it free and slid the ring on her finger easily. "It suits you," he complimented after a second of admiring it, holding her hand.

"You suit me more," she kindly teased and actually stood from her chair a little while applying pressure to her grip, just as much as it was needed to use him for momentum, crash her lips onto his for a long second, and then fall back down. "It's perfect," she sighed then "I'll never take it off...maybe when I'm cooking. Flour is a bitch."

Okita and Saitou were a little surprised at her forward move, but still found it within them to smile or laugh along. And even if Saitou looked it less, it was Okita who snapped out of it first. "Congratulations you two!" he actually hugged Tokio as she sat there, squeezing as much as he was able. Then he let go and went to Saitou who actually stood and they shared a big, short hug. "See? I told you she'd say yes."

"You talk too much."

Thus, the proposal was realised, just as Okita had suggested; they knew the public place was important but even more important than that was making a grand show of it, to have as many witnesses as possible. The staff wouldn't forget such a request for a proposal for a long time and they'd definitely talk about it a lot—especially since that was a restaurant Tokio frequented and one of the other two places they had met accidentally that one year and a half they knew each other. So, it was perfect.

And since Okita stayed until the end of their meal, they left altogether; Saitou had picked Tokio up and Okita had gone there by train, just so they could all ride in the same car and talk about their next step in a safe place, with no eavesdropping ears.

"Tokio-chan, you're one hell of an actress," Okita exclaimed, once Saitou started driving.

"Comes with the job," she replied, smirking as she shrugged nonchalant.

"That's one thing down," Saitou decided to comment instead, carefully treading away from that conversation. "Next on the list is arranging the move, but most importantly...we need to introduce you to Aiko."

"I can whenever," she made clear right away "depends entirely on you."

"I think tomorrow we'll need to warm Aiko-chan up to the idea of who she's going to meet," Okita opined, hands crossed in front of his chest "so not before Thursday."

She shrugged, leaving it up to them; she wouldn't want to rush him, not for something like this. And it was pretty obvious Okita was a little invested in this whole business, not just for his friend, but for the man's daughter, too—it wouldn't be a stretch to say he had a hand in raising her. She could picture Hajime, exhausted both physically and mentally, calling his best friend and colleague for help; for those things he did not want to admit to his mother he couldn't do, or didn't know how. But with the help of this man, they definitely figured it out: the two of them hunched over a baby, book in their hands about how to raise babies; smiling at the mental image she created, she turned her eyes outside of her window, opting to watch as the city lights became a continuous blur. She always found it relaxing and only god knew how much of that she needed.

"Once I move in, I'll tell my parents, too; I suggest you do before me. Said your folks live across the hall—wouldn't want your mom having a heart attack if she ever knocks on the door and it's me who answers it."

Okita's laugh was boisterous. "Oh boy, I had forgotten about that; your mom's gonna murder you for not telling her anything."

"She'll manage."

"His mother would believe him if even he said he was actually Russian and hid it from them this entire time," his friend clarified to her concerned look and she had to bite her lip not to laugh too much.

Ten minutes later, they had arrived at her apartment complex, where they dropped her off with the assurance they'd call her tomorrow; waving goodbye, she sighed, as she looked up at her balcony from a distance. She'd miss her lifestyle, that was for sure, but it would be worth it...she hoped. Steeling herself for what's about to come, she headed straight forward.

.

When they had estimated her meeting with his daughter would not be before Thursday, she did not expect it to be Thursday afternoon. She was completely unprepared for it, both mentally and physically, since all they had done was tell her, when Aiko is ready, they would call. She didn't think they meant the exact time—she wanted at least a day worth of forewarning. But nope, it didn't come: it was barely four pm when she answered her phone and they let her know they would be meeting in three hours.

At least Okita was out of the picture this once; it would be just the three of them.

She wouldn't have normally minded, but that man made her feel constantly judged; his stare was boring into her, absolute and unforgiving, waiting for the smallest slip-up or indication she was being anything other than honest. But how more honest could she be? She had told them this was all a ploy to get what they want from the very beginning, why was he so irrationally afraid of her? She had no capacity to fool his friend. Maybe she'd have to fool Aiko, but both her and Hajime were prepared for it.

And yet, the closer the time of their meeting came, the jittery she became. What was it with this guilt? She shouldn't be feeling so much like an asshole, she only did what she thought was best for the both, no, all three of them. If it wasn't, her protective father would not have agreed to it. Even if he was so desperate for a solution that he'd willingly try to cheat the law.

 _Chin up Tokio_ , she mentally scolded herself; there's no way she would meet with this by all accounts amazing little girl with such a scowl on her face! She was a strong woman and she needed to prove that to herself today, no bad thoughts; only good ones. Right.

 _Think of it as a necessary evil, fooling this small, sweet, innocent child_ , her own voice rang in her head, unforgiving and she almost cried. Damn it...

It all quieted down the moment she saw them.

Hajime's car pulled up right next to hers, at the meeting point: the corner of the street right next to the coffee shop with the indoors playground, Aiko's favourite place to go, not only because she could do "grown-up" things, like it on a chair next to her dad, but also because she had friends there at the same she could play with and have her father watch; which was rare.

He got out of the car, securing it, and then opened the door for his daughter; he waited a moment, probably for her to take off her seat-belt and then she watched as he kept his hand extended and a little one took it. Tokio's heart skipped a beat when she saw a bundle of clothes jumping out of the car, patiently waiting for her father to close the door behind her, lock the car and then head for the crossing. Although there were no cars coming, the light was red for the pedestrians so he had both of them wait, despite others crossing it in a hurry. Only once it turned green did he move, Aiko-chan keeping up with him easily. Well, he was accommodating of course, but it was obvious it was practiced—they always did that. It was heart-warming.

It helped none this was one of the coldest days of February, and Aiko was wrapped in a grey scarf all the way to her nose, with a red beret hiding the top of her head. That was so cute, oh god! She had a nice grey coat on, too, with red and black details, all the way to her knees that covered everything and she could have died at the idea that either Aiko-chan picked out this matching outfit or Hajime had to coordinate it for her, it was too adorable. She must have been wearing a dress, Tokio realised, because the closer they came, the clearer her little legs were: all white, most possibly by thick tights, wearing black cute flats on her little feet with a strap.

Aaaaaw...

"Good afternoon," Tokio was the first to speak, the moment they came to stand in front of her. She bent her legs, squatting in front of the girl and looked at her with a wide smile, that was by no means difficult to call upon, looking at this picture. "My name is Tokio. Do you know who I am?"

She nodded. "Daddy told me about you."

Her eyes briefly glanced up at him, only to find his expression neutral, but not guarded at all, looking down at his daughter. She could tell, if Tokio wasn't there, and this was Aiko meeting virtually anyone else, he'd be smiling; she didn't hold it against him. It made sense for him to be cautious.

"And what did daddy say about me?"

"That...you'll be living with us from now on..."

Tokio nodded deeply, urging her to go on, seeing the girl had more to share. Even if only her eyes were visible, she could tell she must have been blushing, because she kept averting them and then bringing them back to her; also, even if it was just her eyes, it was more than enough! They were very expressive, just like her daddy's. She had inherited their shape and colour, too. Heh! She would bet he was very proud of that particular fact—it was a rare colour after all.

"And that, um..." Aiko finally looked up to her father and he too nodded, closing his eyes for a split second, to show her it was perfectly okay for her to keep going. "Daddy asked you to marry him; that's why you'll be living with us."

"That's right! And do you know what that means?" Aiko shook her head, looking away. "Do you know what that makes me to you?" That's when the little girl looked back at her, surprised, curious...maybe a little hopeful? Shit; oh no; her heart was already squeezing at the realisation, why was Aiko so sweet and honest? "That means, once your father and I get married, I will be your step-mom."

Shit; shit, shit. Shit! Look at that expression of pure joy, yet disbelief on that little face—or eyes. And then, she became suddenly sad. "But you aren't married yet..."

"Of course not, we wouldn't want you to miss it!" She discreetly pried the little girl's hand out of Hajime's, who was still holding onto her, and then took the other one, too, in both of hers. "Your father loves you very much; you are the most important person in his life. He would never do something so big without you there...or if you didn't want him to." Aiko wasn't looking away this once, eyes peeled on hers. "You see, this is your first time meeting me. But marrying someone means you're with them forever—or at least, supposedly. He wouldn't want to make you live with me forever if you didn't like me, right?" Aiko nodded vigorously. "So, you have to meet me first! That's why we're here today. Hopefully, you'll like me as much as I already like you." She winked at her, Aiko giggled and Tokio stood up, messing her hair as she let go of one hand; she still held the other. Recognising his cue, Saitou took her other hand and all three together walked inside the coffee shop.

He gave her a loaded look when Aiko started almost skipping; she accurately translated it for what it was: a torn scolding. On one hand, he wanted to thank her for making a good impression; on the other, he wanted to complain for making _such_ a good impression. She wouldn't actually stay and be part of her life, she didn't need to be so convincing about having these intentions. And yet, he couldn't complain, because she really was impeccable. Maybe he'd tell Okita later, he seemed to get it completely.

Tokio shook her head just a little, knowing exactly what he was thinking about. He wasn't wrong but...what should she do? Be indifferent to this cute little creature in front of her? Impossible. Still, the rest of the coffee date went perfectly. Aiko alternated between coming and going to the playground, having found children her age in the pen and one friend—that Hajime recognised as the boy who was defending her at school.

The only difficult spot was one and it came ten minutes before they left: Aiko came running to them, red-faced, grabbing her father's leg, pulling on his fabric. The girl was tall for her age, but Saitou was tall in general, so she didn't reach much higher when he was sitting—barely his knee. "What is it?" he asked immediately, knowing that was a sign of upset and hesitation from his daughter.

"Wh, what do I call...Tokio-san now?" She hid her face in his pants as soon as she asked it, missing the look the two adults shared. "Hori asked me who she was and I...I didn't know what..."

The two adults exchanged looks again; Hajime appeared to be washing his hands of this, giving her absolute freedom to do what she wanted.

"Sweetie," Tokio begun, hand combing through her two pig tails, at the base of her head, "you can call me whatever you like. I bet daddy told you about mommy, yes?" He nodded when saw her eyes snap to him momentarily, to assure her. "He's told you all sorts of things about her, who she was, what she was like...if you don't want to call me that, I don't mind."

After all, struggling to keep the memory of a person alive only through tales and photos was an extremely difficult task, she knew; she barely remembered people she actually met, how much more a child of only five or six years. And she could bet all she ever had, Hajime only spoke of the best of his late wife, with love and melancholy; with obvious yearning; and children were oh, so perceptive. Besides, the girl most possibly didn't want to replace the idea of her mommy Yaso not only out of guilt, so daddy wouldn't be sad, but also because that was the only mother she ever had. She would feel bad if she believed she involuntarily was trying to replace her. And yet, her eagerness to have a real mother in her life was too apparent.

"But I do want you to know I am here for you no matter what; if you want to call me Tokio-chan, that's fine; but if you do want to call me mommy, or something like that, that's perfectly fine, too. You decide."

For a long, eternal moment, she said nothing; then, as if seeking permission, she looked up at her father. He picked her up, planted a kiss on her forehead, balancing her on his leg. "You do whatever you want," he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice "it's your choice."

"Then...wh...what if I call you Tokaa-san? As in, Tokio but okaa-san..."

"Hmmm..." Tokio theatrically tapped her chin, lips pursed. "It sounds catchy. I like it."

The way Aiko beamed up at her made her heart swell; and when she all but jumped off of her father's leg and made a run for Hori, she could have squealed! But in a rare display of emotion, Hajime almost said something, but decided against it, looking happy yet miserable.

Amazing.

"Thank you; but please don't be so good with her."

She wanted to feel offended, honestly, but she just couldn't bring herself to see this solely from her perspective; that's what she got for being empathetic. "...I can't help it."

A deep sigh escaped him. "I know." His eyes only followed Aiko, playing, socialising. There was something there she didn't understand and even if it did make sense for her not to get him completely, she felt unsatisfied. "I'm sorry, I'm being selfish. Just don't...let her become too dependent on you."

She gave him a look, eyebrows raised. _How_ , it communicated in a dry, annoyed way. Their deal was that she was going to work from home the entire time she'd be staying with them, with only few exceptions, for things she couldn't do remotely. How was Tokio supposed to care and provide for little Aiko without her getting dependent? It was virtually impossible. He was right, he was being very selfish.

Her ire flickered in her eyes; but when his sole response to that was to shy, defeated, mentally exhausted, she felt hopeless. If he already knew and he still said it, what was she supposed to do? She couldn't argue with him here, even if her glare spoke volumes.

"I don't know," he admitted, shrugging. "I just don't want to see her too hurt."

"First of all, we shouldn't be having this conversation here, in public," she almost barked the second part "and secondly, I am not going to hurt her; I like children. And she's adorable, what's there not to love? You're just nervous because this is her first time meeting any woman other than relatives. So, put your thoughts in order and take care of what you say."

The "we'll talk about this when we get home" stare he was receiving, almost took him aback...and back to the days he was still married and he'd done something ridiculously stupid; Yaso would be visibly upset, but she had decided not to make a scene. Instead, she gave him that same, unrivaled glare and then utter the feared sentence "we'll deal with this later" or some other variation. It wasn't feared from the first time he heard it, though; but it was the second. Tokio had said he was a fast learner—she had no idea. So, when he saw that directed at him after such a long time, he felt adequately berated.

"Right," he could only say, slightly concerned "sorry; I will." He looked to the side, slightly concerned. He had heard her argue and fight with people; if that's what was waiting for him, he started regretting his choice of place and conversation fast. "Want me to get you another chamomile?"

Her smile was cold; he became apprehensive. "Yes, please," she decided to spare him a little, voice softening a notch; just the one.

Without hesitation, he stood from his chair and went to the bar, not bothering to flag down their waitress. Shaking her head, a tiny bit of guilt starting to rise to her mouth with its bitter taste a little too familiar, she uncrossed her arms that hadn't realised when she had crossed them on the first place, and released the tension from her shoulders. She watched him go through the motions of ordering; then he waited; when her beverage was ready, he picked it up and returned to their table...without looking back at her once. That helped calm her, too and by the time he placed the chamomile in front of her, his weight thrown back on the seat next to her, she found it within her to smile.

"Thank you Hajime."

"I told them to make it like you asked for it before."

Her smile became wider. "Thank you Hajime."

Only then did he realise what she'd said the first time. "...you're welcome."

After that, conversation dwindled. Not that they spoke much anyway—they both were focused on the little girl, playing, laughing, hopping and tumbling with her friends. It was...relaxing, she decided, doing that. It took the edge off from other things. She had a thousand things on her mind that day, but she couldn't remember any of them, for those twenty minutes.

And then, it was time to go.

"You can go tell her," Saitou allowed, an answer to her pleading look.

Thrilled, Tokio stood from her chair and headed to the playpen. To be honest, he sort of did it as a humbling, or at least make her life a little difficult with what she pulled earlier: Aiko never wanted to leave this place. If it was up to her, they'd be going home only when the people who worked here decided it was time to close. She'd complain, whine, and on two memorable occasions, actually hid in the plastic fortress so he couldn't reach her. Dipping in his chair, he waited to see his daughter—...utterly betray him.

The moment Tokio's head appeared and her lips moved, Aiko pouted but otherwise made no attempt, verbal or physical, to protest her directive. In fact, she simply waved goodbye to all of the children there, hugged her friend Hori – why was she hugging this boy – and just rushed to her. He blinked. Why did his own offspring betray him so? She even took Tokio's hand and came like that all the way to their table.

"Let's get you all bundled up now," Tokio immediately said, reaching for her scarf and coat "you played too hard, you must be covered in sweat. We don't want you catching a cold, right?"

Wordlessly, she nodded many times; Tokio smiled at her widely and pinched her nose. Aiko giggled. Hajime watched as the two of them interacted with increasing alarm yet relief. When Tokio took the oversized scarf to wrap around his daughter, the girl, instead of being stationary and let the woman put it around her, she grabbed one end and spun around until it was all spent; then, as if knowing she would do that, Tokio simply secured it, put the other end in one of the layers, and made sure it was snugly. After that, she held out the coat and Aiko extended her arms, not as she usually did, but behind her, so both sleeves could come on at once. Then, the little girl twirled around with flair and Tokio buttoned up the coat, gracing her with small smiles and short giggles. When she was all but ready, Tokio put the beret on her head, tilted it to one side. She watched her handiwork with pride.

"There; all set. You're ready."

"Do I look good?"

"You look great; just as you did when you came."

Aiko giggled again, but colour rose to her cheeks all the same. "Thank you."

The adults put on their coats, too and all three of them, one hand each, left the coffee shop – where Saitou could already see at least three mothers talk between themselves in excited hushed tones; to think their plan was working so well, amazing – and headed straight for the cars.

"Say goodbye to Tokio now, little plum; we're going home."

And yet, instead of a hug or a request for a kiss, all Aiko did was look up shocked, from her dad to Tokio. "What do you mean? She's not coming with us?"

Ah, there was the problem. "Not yet, sweetie."

"But you said you'd be living with us if I liked you!"

"Yes—"

"I like you! Daddy, I like her; why can't she come?"

"She has to move her things with her but she has a lot of things; so, now that you do like her, she can start packing. But that will take a while, maybe a week..." Just as she had started listening, the moment the word _week_ was spoken, she welled up.

"How about Saturday," Tokio rushed to suggest, stopping Aiko's tears before they fully formed "when you won't have school and we can be altogether?"

"Yes, Saturday, Saturday; so we can all go out on Sunday to celebrate."

"Sounds perfect; where do you want to go?"

"It's daddy's birthday on Sunday, so he decides!"

Tokio blinked, trying not to show her surprise too much; she then turned to Saitou, eyebrows raised, small smirk forming. He tried to roll his eyes as discreetly as possible. "Daddy doesn't like going out for his birthday, remember?"  
"Nonsense," Tokio cut him off, before even looking at the utter disappointment plastered on his daughter's face "it's your birthday and this will be the first time we'll be spending it altogether—not to mention I'll just have moved in. We're going out. You two decide where you want to go, and I'll take you out."

"Yes daddy, please! Please, please, please let's all go out, please...!"

He sighed; just by that, Aiko cheered. She knew she had won. "It's two against one," he relented. Aiko hugged him – his legs, anyhow – for good measure. And then, she let go of him and hugged Tokio's legs, too, tightly.

"Goodbye, Tokaa-san," they heard her mumble and after a radiant smile up to the woman, she let go.

"Bye bye, Aiko-chan," she waved at her as Saitou unlocked the car and the little girl ran to the left, back door. He opened it for her and she jumped in readily, actually putting her seat belt on all by herself. Shaking her head amused, once Saitou closed the door, she went to him, kissed him on the cheek and whispered "I'll call you tonight; don't think I forgot." A sly smile later, she bid him goodbye, too and went to her own car.

Saitou's latest sigh was even more impressive than the last one. Defeated, he got into his car, checked his daughter was strapped in tight, and drove away.

.

.

The next time he saw her in person was on Saturday. Naturally, that wasn't the next time he heard her, too—she had indeed called him that Thursday night and, as expected, she gave him a real piece of her mind. She was talking all on her own, without stopping for a breath or his opinion for about ten minutes during which he could only nod or, if he became verbal, apologise. Then she stopped and it sounded like she deflated, that much she sighed. Then, she kindly informed him she arranged the move and all of her clothes and a few choice belongings would be coming with her, so he'd better make room in his closet.

 _Maybe buy a new one_ , he actually teased, knowing she must have had three times the clothes, shoes and accessories he had and it earned him a laugh so he felt accomplished.

Then, on Friday, she called again to let him know that they'd be coming over around ten in the morning the next day; he let her know that that was a good time for them, so the date was set. Thus, currently three to ten in the morning, a red moving track with its logo on either side, was pulling up right outside his apartment complex. It wasn't the biggest he'd ever seen...but it wasn't the smallest either. She said only clothes and a few choice belongings, what was up with that?

Right behind it, she saw her car, parking in a spot. When she got out, dressed surprisingly sporty, she spotted him immediately and made a line for him.

"Good morning Hajime," she saluted, looking all kinds of refreshed "how have you been? How's Aiko-chan?"

"We're both fine," he got over the pleasantries while barely looking at her; instead, his focus was on that truck "though I doubt we'll be able to live in our house anymore—your things will knock us out."

She chuckled. "Breathe; there are mostly clothes in there. It's just that some can't be folded to fit in cases or boxes, like the shoes and the bags, so we had to hang them. That's why it looks like that."

"...thank god."

"The only bulky items I took from my apartment are my favourite chair, my lamp, a full-body foldable mirror and a three-by-one cabinet I put all of my work and personal papers—those were the only furniture I bought; all the rest came with the house."

"That's actually pretty manageable."

"Oh, that and my bed; mattress and all." To his obvious surprise, she clicked her tongue. "No woman wants to sleep with her future husband in the same bed he slept with his late wife."

Just as he was about to be offended, he thought about it; yeah, alright, she had a point.

"Wait, I was right?" His eyes became smaller, suspicious. "You still have the—...Hajime, it's been six years; no woman wants to sleep in...you honestly tell me you haven't tried moving on? All these years?"

He shrugged. "I mean, I bet you've had casual relationships, but you haven't tried to get your life back together since?" He shrugged again. "Hajime, I know, I mean, I don't know what it must feel like, but I don't think you should torture yourself like that; I am sure, Yaso wouldn't want you to be miserable. And she definitely would have wanted her daughter to have a mother, even if it isn't her."

"Tokio—"

"I'm sorry," she immediately put her hands up, taking a step back "it's not my place. And I meant no offense. It's not my business, forgive me."

"That's fine," was all he said, a little satisfied she seemed to understand she overstepped "but what are we going to do with my bed?"

"We can put it in my apartment or in storage. Oh!" She chuckled. "I told dad I'll be moving in with you, he freaked out." She actually laughed now. "He had noticed the ring and said nothing but after that he could no longer hold his tongue and, oh boy, he had a lot to say." She shook her head amused, as if her father's plight was something entertaining. "So, he knows about us; he knows nothing about you though, I didn't say. But, he insisted on keeping the apartment, so he's basically going to keep paying rent on it, so even if we put your bed there, you won't lose it. He said if he decided to stop paying, he'll tell me in advance, in case I want to take anything out. Bottom mind is, he reacted just as I expected; so did mum. Those are good things."

He snorted. "I told my parents, too; mother wasn't too happy. But she did agree to be open-minded about this and go into your meeting without prejudice. Father on the other hand...he's suspicious of your intentions, I believe. We'll see. He did agree to the same thing with mum though."

"Awww."

"Which meeting is today; once the move is over, they're coming."

"I'm guessing they have Aiko for now?" He nodded. "Then why don't we go to there instead, when all is over? After all, once everything is inside, they'll still need to be put in their places and that'll take too long. It's better if we go to your mother for some tea, have a break and then take Aiko-chan with us and move everything around. It'll be fun! She can help, too and it's better to make her feel included."

"Tokio," he deadpanned, going close enough so that only she could hear him "you keep forgetting we want her to like you, but not too much. You aren't staying in the long run; and she's not your niece."

Her blood boiled in seconds; now he had to take a step back from the ferocity of her cold, frigid threatening smile. " _I'll only say this once and you better get it into your head_ :" even is she was whispering, actually whispering, he could hear her loud and clear, as if she was screaming " _I am_ _ **not**_ _going to half-ass this. It needs to look real; and your daughter needs to interact with a woman. Whether you had one actual girlfriend, or two or four, it's obvious she never met them. She's had no mother figure in her life. Let her have her fun and stop worrying so much. If you tell me anything of the sort again, I will attack you. I swear._ Are we clear, sweetie?"

She said the last part in a normal voice, just as one of the movers was passing right by them, but even he felt the icicles dripping from her tone and chose to pick up his pace, unwilling to be caught between a lover's spat.

"We are," he numbly retorted "crystal." She inclined her head. "At least I can complain to Okita about it."

"As much as you want," she assured, patting his shoulder. "And now, let's get to work! Why don't you help them with the heavy stuff? I'll start transferring the clothes on the hangers first."

Nodding, without a word or sound escaping him, he dutifully did as he was told. With their help though, things moved faster indeed; they blinked and all of her things were accounted for safely inside his home. Even his bed was disassembled fast and was taken out in fifteen minutes. That's why they were pros! He easily remembered when he and Yaso moved into this place and he had refused to hire movers, other than their truck, because how hard can it be? Apparently, quite; and of course, it was too time consuming. But now, boom, done in an hour. He decided not to skimp out on such things in the future.

"Alright!" she clapped her hands once. "All of my hanged clothes are in your closet and everything else is safely inside; I think we are good to go meet your mom! What's her name again?"

"Her name is Masu and she prefers being referred to with that."

"Perfect! Let's go meet Masu-san."

"She'll like that," he thoughtfully said "call her that."

Preening like a peacock, she put on her sneakers and walked across the hall, in Hajime's company. Once actually standing out her front door, he urged her to ring the bell, which she did, with confidence. Maybe it was because they weren't going to be her real in-laws, but she was incredibly upbeat and nerves-free; he could tell she was nervous when meeting Aiko-chan but now, nothing. Well, if Aiko didn't like her, it would put a temporary hold on their plans until they figured something out; if his mother doesn't like her, tough; but he had a feeling it was more than that. He didn't think of her as that cold.

When the door opened, a mere moment later, he saw his mother stand at the threshold; despite all she said, she was guarded. Both him and Tokio could tell, just by her body language. And yet, that deterred her none; with a wide smile, Tokio took a deep bow and spoke first.

"Hello; you must be Masu-san. I am Takagi Tokio, very pleased to meet you." Her upbeat tone and complete lack of holding back made the woman lose her train of thought.

"Hello; please, come inside, you must be tired."

"Thank you madam."

She stood to the side to let them in; when Saitou passed next to her, his mother almost asked him what was up, but in the end refrained from speaking, just gave him a look. He shrugged, a little arrogant. When she took off her shoes right at the door, next to the ones already there, his mother felt like being a little nicer. When she waited for Hajime to do the same and only after he walked in front of her did she follow inside, Masu perked up.

"You have a lovely home, Masu-san; it looks very...warm. Did you always live here?"

She nodded. "Ever since Katsu was born, three years before Hajime."

"Aww, you grew up here!" Masu didn't miss the way Tokio squeezed his hand momentarily. "But where's Aiko-chan?"

"Bathroom; she's coming."

It was a man who said that, coming from the hall, into the living room. That was his father, no doubt about it. He might have had his mother's colours, but he was a spitting image of his father—all but the height. Apparently, that was just him, as both parents were close to the national average.

"Hello sir."

"Why hello to you, too, young lady; Tokio was it?" She bowed. "To think we finally get to meet you..."

Her smile was guilty. "Please, forgive me."

"You? It's my son I'm angry with."

"Don't be; I asked him to tell no one. I'm a little...paranoid."

"Huh." The two older people looked at one another. "That's a first."

She chuckled. "My parents, my job...it's all a little overwhelming. But I try." Her smile became bright. "Admittedly, if I knew of his intentions from the beginning I would have been a little lenient."

His mother smacked him; his father laughed. "It's a great quality in a woman," he said through his mirth "admitting to her mistakes—make sure you don't lose it after marriage."

It was his turn to be struck by his wife, as Tokio actually laughed along with him and Saitou simply shook his head to their antics.

Just then, they watched as Aiko-chan came bounding into the room, running straight for Tokio; without warning, she crushed into her and wrapped her hands around her middle, or as far up as she could go. "Tokaa-san, welcome! Did you move in yet?"

"All things are inside the house," she started and Aiko-chan only squeezed harder as a "Yay~!" left her lips, but Tokio wasn't finished "and your dad and I decided to wait until you're home to put everything in its place; thought it'd be a nice activity for the day."

The little girl nodded furiously, cheeks turning rose, but there was no sign of shame on her face. It must have been the excitement.

"But first, you will stay for a cup of tea, yes? Hajime mentioned you have a preference for chamomile."

"I do; and we will, certainly."

"Hello daddy," Aiko said then, finally untangling herself from Tokio's hug; she didn't move to hug _him_ though, just waved. Hajime gave Tokio a look; she tried not to smile.

Shaking his head, he turned to Aiko. "Did you have breakfast?"

"My son," his mother complained, all drama in her voice "my own son and he doesn't trust me with feeding his daughter! I raised _you_ , didn't I? And both of your siblings before you? None of you starved to death. And..."

"You had to ask that, didn't you?" his father sighed, shaking his head, while his mother still waxed from the kitchen as they all moved to sit in the living room.

Aiko dragged Tokio to the big couch, forced her to sit against the arm as she wedged herself between Tokio and her dad, who naturally came to sit next to her. Thus, the next couple of hours passed with idle conversation and late introductions full of teasing, jokes and mumbled complaints. By the time they left, his parents had warmed up to the idea of their son getting married to a stranger to them, seeing said stranger was highly charismatic and, by all appearances, innocuous.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow," his mother suggested when they were at the door "for his birthday! Your house is still a mess, it'd be too much to expect you cook for us."

"No, granny, we can't! Daddy promised to take us out."

"What she means is," Tokio said through chuckles – amused by the fact Saitou was glaring daggers at his daughter – "I suggested we go out to celebrate my moving in and his birthday at the same time and he agreed."

"Oh, that sounds fun; we wouldn't want to impose."

"Honey, don't say it like that," her husband scolded her, seeing she was playing the pity card "the woman will feel bad;" he turned to Tokio "don't mind her, go out and have fun. Just make sure to come by for a drink once you're done."

"Of course; you'll have to give daddy his present, too."

"I'm a little too old for that," he commented amused, thankful to his father "but we'll be sure to come."

"Call Sou-chan over, too," his mother suggested readily "I haven't seen him for a long time."

"I will, mother; bye."

"It was nice meeting you," Tokio bowed for a final time "goodbye for now."

"Buh bye~!"

Aiko waved them away and they walked in silence back to their apartment, both adults feeling his parents' eyes on them the entire time it took them to get to the door, open it and close it again. A small sigh escaped Tokio the moment they were out of sight.

"Go wash your hands; I'm coming in a second, so you can show me around the house, yes?"

"Yes!"

The girl skipped all the way to the bathroom. "No running around the house," Saitou reminded just as she disappeared behind the door.

"That was exhausting," she whispered the moment Aiko was out of sight, sagging under the weight of the day. "But your parents were nice!"

"They liked you, that's why; I've never seen dad joke in front of a stranger before." She straightened at the sound of that, fatigue suddenly gone. "You made a good impression." She beamed. "Stop smiling, idiot," he teased, shaking his head but, naturally, she didn't.

"Why? It's a good thing! I liked them, too actually; I think your mom's my favourite. Oh, such drama when you asked if Aiko-chan had breakfast." She chuckled. "And the way she sneakily tried to invite herself in the end—props to that. If I wasn't so used to these underhanded techniques, I might've fallen for it."

By that time, Aiko had come back, soundlessly, and simply stood there, listening to them, but neither adult had paid any attention to her.

"She's your favourite, because you're the same."

This once, she did laugh; her head thrown back, she vibrated with her joy. "Right? But your dad's very cool, too; I can see where you take it from."

"Oh? Did you just call me cool?"

Her lips pursed at his arrogant tone, eyebrows high. "I might've..."

That's when both adults became aware of the girl's presence; her cute little giggle attracted their attention and both seemed surprised to find her there. "Daddy's very cool" she announced then "always. My friends think so, too!"

That was so adorable, oh god.

"Tokaa-san, come, come! I want to show you my room!"

The tour to the house started from there; it took them a while to leave, as Aiko was too excited and wanted to show her everything—every little thing, while at the same time Tokio was trying to memorize where everything went, so they ended up spending a lot of time in there. It was a big room to begin with! Well, it made sense; if they came to this apartment with the idea they were starting a family, maybe one child wasn't what they had in mind—this could easily accommodate two and there was a spare bedroom, too.

Huh; interesting tidbit. Maybe she should ask him later.

The spare bedroom was the one furthest inside the house and their second stop; it was used as a guestroom, as she could see, but there was a closet in there, too...that was also interesting. Maybe she found out where she was going to put all of her shoes and the clothes that didn't fit inside the other closet.

On the right side of the hall, was Saitou's bedroom—also, quite the spacious room. Then it was Aiko's on the left and the first door on the right was the bathroom. It had everything. Huh; this was a big house. He might have joked about how she would be downgrading, going from her penthouse to this, but this wasn't all that small either, especially since the only other apartment on this floor was his parents'—and that looked like it was identical to this one, only the hall was to the right, once you entered the house, and not the left. But both had a spacious joined living room-kitchen that was only separated by a wooden bar-like structure.

It was very cozy; she liked it.

"Tokaa-san, what's this?"

She pointed to the cabinet. "That's where I keep all of my files and papers."

"Oh! Dad has one like it for his cases! But I'm not allowed to look inside."

"Daddy's cases aren't suitable for small children," Tokio was absolute about it, too, because Aiko had sounded a little pouty when she'd said it "his job is catching bad people; you don't want to see what bad people do; and you don't have to."

"That's what daddy says, too," she mumbled, unconvinced.

Something told her she still wanted to look; and if left unattended, at some point she'd definitely find a way to get into it, despite her father's glares and strict looks behind Tokio's back. "Do you know how daddy and I met?"

"No!" she admitted excited, bouncing on her feet to hear the story.

"About a year and a half ago, someone did something very bad: one of my good friends, one that I knew since I was your age, was killed." Saitou had his misgivings about this, she could feel his anxiety behind her, but since he didn't jump in to stop her, she felt confident she did the right thing and kept talking. "He didn't die by some tragedy, someone else did it. And that's horrible, isn't it?"

Aiko, a little scared, nodded repeatedly. "Exactly; that's unforgivable. But those bad, bad people don't admit to what they did, because they know they will go to prison or worse; the detectives have to find them on their own. And that's what daddy does, that's how we met. He took the case of my friend and we met while he was making questions."

"Oh..."

"And you wouldn't want to read about sad, horrible things like that, would you?" she shook her head no. "Exactly. So, stay out of daddy's cabinet, it's not good for children."

"Okay."

"Now, forget all about that! Do you want to see my shoes?" Thankfully, much like all children, her attention span was short; she forgot all about the murders in a second. "Let's go inspect them and find some place for them to go."

Saturday was a tiring day, for both. Not only did they have to be on their best behaviour around the girl, not only did they have to act, they had to go with her every whim. They ended up changing and moving things around three times. Other than the bed, which simply replaced the old one – and was far better than the previous, according to Aiko-chan who bounced on it at least ten times – the clothes, the shoes and the furniture kept going from one place to the other. In the end, they settled for the formation Tokio had suggested at the very beginning. At least it was fun.

Seeing that took them all day, since they had to take a break to cook then eat and then recommence their decorations, by the time they finished cleaning up everything, it was eleven. Aiko, who always went to bed a little late on Friday and Saturday, stayed with them until then, actually helped with putting things in their place and then off to bed...

"Will you tuck me in, Tokaa-san?" she asked, looking away, head lowered.

"Of course I will; go change, wash your face, brush your teeth and I'll be right there."

Beaming, she ran off to her room; at the same time, Tokio collapsed on the couch. "I am...exhausted," she spoke softly, but entirely too tired.

"Welcome to the Saitou household," he simply stated, completely unaffected by the craziness of the entire day and simply headed to the now clean kitchen table. She watched as he sat in the third chair with practiced ease, not even looking when pulling it; then, from beneath the heavy wooden table, he produced a leather briefcase. From within it, he pulled a paper file folder, one that resembled a little too much those they have at precincts. He made himself comfortable then and pulled out the papers; he started reading.

"What is that?"

"My ongoing case," he replied without really thinking about it, already focused on the words formed on those pages.

"Thought you didn't have to work today."

"I didn't have _to go_ to work; and I didn't. But he ain't gonna catch himself, you said it yourself." He shrugged, thumbing the next page. "I always bring home work; it's just that I won't be going to the actual precinct the entire weekend, so I took a copy of the entire thing with me."

"Is that allowed?"

His eyes turned up at her, even as he remained hunched over the documents; his stare was formidable. She put her hands up, defensively; only then did he look back to his case. Just then, Aiko-chan emerged from the bathroom in triumph. "I am ready!" she announced and skipped off to bed.

Tokio chuckled. "I better go tuck her in; what's your routine?"

His mind stopped processing the written words, even if his eyes looked at them and he appeared no different from before. On one hand, he selfishly did not want to reveal that to her, for it would feel like she completely infiltrated their life; on the other, if she did something he usually didn't and she liked it a little too much, then maybe she'd get used to it and it'd be hard to devote too much time to her each and every night. Then again, tonight was special...but just the thought he would have to tell her what he did when he tucked her in on special occasions tasted even more bitter.

But that wasn't fair to her, he knew.

"Do whatever you want," he opted to answer with, in the end, struggling to sound as devil-may-care as possible.

It worked because she simply smiled and went on her way. He didn't see her again for half an hour; when he realised it was that long, he actually stared at her, question evident. Tokio averted her eyes, trying to look as innocuous as possible. "She wanted me there until she fell asleep." A pause. "I couldn't say no."

"Ah," he went back to his papers, "she gave you the look."

"She did," Tokio admitted in a drawl, pouting "it was so adorable and so vulnerable—how could I not?"

He nodded, agreeing; that look of hers was unrelenting and, so far, the reigning champion. He was surprised to hear the chair next to him being pulled and he was even more surprised to catch her figure in his peripheral vision. "How can _you_ say no?"

"Can't," he was utterly honest "but that's her secret weapon, so she doesn't use it often."

"Bless..." She put her elbows on the table next to him, supporting her head on her knuckles. "So, what do we do now?"

His eyes slid to her. "I'm working."

"Do you mind if I watch a movie?"

"...knock yourself out."

"Do you want me to use headphones?"

"I don't mind the noise; and how are you going to use headphones on a TV set?"

"I was thinking more in the lines of my laptop..."

"Do whatever you want."

"Okay; want some coffee?"

"...yes, actually; I take it black."

"I don't drink coffee, actually;" he looked up at her, curious "if anyone ever asks."

"No, I get why you'd tell me that, but...you don't drink coffee?" She nodded. "How do you _function_?"

Shaking her head, she stood and went to the cupboards, looking for what she needed. "Go back to your papers, detective..."

She decided to be as less annoying as possible and went for her laptop in the end; after she too changed her clothes, she poured the coffee for him and brewed her chamomile. As an after-though, she rummaged the cupboards again, in search of snacks; she found some chips. Then, she promptly made herself comfortable on the large sofa, and watched her movie.

Once the movie ended, around one am, she looked back, only to find Hajime just as absorbed as she had left him, pouring over his case diligently. She raised an eyebrow. Putting her things away, she stood, stretching. Discreetly, she made her way to him.

"Movie's over; are you about done?" His snort was her answer; that came as a surprise. Instinctively, her eyes went to the coffee pot she had made for him, only to see it was all consumed "Do you have long ways to go?"

"This isn't homework Takagi," he snubbed, never looking up from his case files "nor some stock-market exchange I have to see to the end to make sure it's beneficial."

"Then you're never done." His "now you get it" head movement irritated her. "So then when do you stop?"

"When I can no longer keep my eyes open."

"...I see." And people called _her_ a workaholic. "Well, I'm tired; if there's nothing you want me for, I'll be heading off to bed now."

He nodded, absent minded, as if she wasn't really there. She suppressed the urge to click her tongue. How was it that something could make her both irritated and at the same time sympathetic? Only two thoughts went through her mind that moment: _what an asshole_ and _poor guy_ ; first was because obviously, he was being a little bit of a dick. The second because he was so used to this, he did it on the regular—that's gotta be self-inflicted torture. She sighed.

"Do you want me to make some more coffee before I turn in?"

"...yes, please."

"And since we need to talk about tomorrow anyway, how about you have a small snack-break and we discuss where we go for lunch and what do we do for breakfast?"

He seemed annoyed she was taking up his time, at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He was kind of hungry; and they did have leftovers. He put his papers back into the folder and aside, as he nodded to her, visibly tired himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, as she went through the motions for a fresh batch of coffee and then took out a plate and put some food in it from the pan in the fridge. She put it in the microwave oven and waited until it dinged. She put the plate in front of him, a knife and a glass of water. She poured one for herself, too and only then did she sit down, but this once, she opted for the chair facing him.

"You don't have to go to work tomorrow from what I gather." He nodded. "So you can wake up whenever you want."

"We wake up around nine on Sundays; well, Aiko does. I'm usually up around eight."

"Yes, but tomorrow is your birthday, right? It's going to be a special day. Why don't we wake up whenever, no alarm clocks and all that, and as soon as we do, we go for a walk? Grab something from a bakery for breakfast; then we go have lunch somewhere nice and come back home. By that time we've already called Souji and once he arrives, we all go over to your parents."

"...sounds like a plan." He said that too tired, between bites, causing her to look at him funny. "You've put a lot more thought into this than I ever do."

"So this is what we do?" He nodded. "But not what you usually do on your birthdays."

"I promised to take you out and I will." Absolute, not a shred of hesitation. "But I don't usually celebrate birthdays, not like that; not since..." He held his tongue. "My mother makes us dinner, Okita and I go for a drink, end of story."

"Oh." She looked away. "If you want to—"

"I promised," he repeated, authoritative. "And this is actually very good," he finished, looking at the plate surprised. He had thought so before, when he first had it but he didn't know if it was his hunger or his taste-buds speaking. Now he knew.

"Thanks," she said after a snort "goodnight detective. I'm off to bed."

"Goodnight."

"Don't be too late, alright? It's not healthy..."

He decided to contain himself to rolling his eyes; an argument in the middle of the night was _not_ what he was aiming for and certainly not while he was still working. But telling her to mind her own goddamn business or how she had absolutely no right to say that, would do just that: create an argument out of thin air; she was too confrontational about anything less, even if he was right or she was wrong. He merely watched with the edge of his eyes as she disappeared in the hallway; he turned his eyes back to the papers but didn't focus again until he heard the bedroom door open; after that he paid no attention to the sounds of her opening the door again, going to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and going back to sleep. No, he didn't, not at all; they were just background noises. Simple noise...

At least, after that, he didn't see her emerge again. She must have fallen asleep.

And she had; but at some time in the night, she woke up. Bleary-eyed, a little bothered at the though, she looked to her left...where there was no one. She looked at her watch; it read twenty past three. That was odd. She blinked, trying to ascertain he didn't fell off the bed and that wasn't what woke her, only to find she was completely alone in the room. A little alarmed, she got up and allowed her feet to take her where her instincts indicated before her brain registered.

Ah; there he was. Hands around the files on the kitchen table, head lying flat against it, he was sleeping on the chair.

What an idiot. Sleeping like that is definitely very bad for your back, as well as he could easily catch a cold! It was still quite chilly, what was he thinking? She had half a mind to go shake him into waking, but she was almost convinced instead of following her, he'd just make more coffee, drink it, and get back to work. Finally making up her mind, she went back to the bedroom, found an extra blanket and put it over his shoulders. Maybe that would keep him warm.

Shaking her head a final time, she retreated to the bed, but she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. Kind of a rough start...hopefully, it'd get better.

* * *

 **A/N** : Second part done and finished! If any of you think she's a little callous, well yeah. She is. It's a conscious choice. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed my lovelies. See you next chapter.

Love,  
FAI~!


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